Darkness and light
by JellicoCat
Summary: Neptune had suffered a terrible blow. Can the Sheriff handle this matter? Will Veronica be his light or the way to his destruction? Lamb never died, in fact that day never happened. Set after the series, middle of Veronica's 2nd year at college. A little bit of everything, centers around the DoVE relationship. Chapters vary from M - K.
1. The lights in the darkness

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that were not created by me. They belong to their respective owners of the Veronica Mars IP. The characters are borrowed for entertainment purposes.**

**From the author: **This story is a work of fiction. It's a fantasy spin-off, if you will, and has minimal spoilers. It revolves around the Lamb/Veronica relationship. It was originally meant to be a MUCH shorter story, but seems to have blown up into a short book. I am still working on it, and I deeply apologize for any editing issues - I am constantly fixing it and editing mistakes as I go. If you are enjoying the story - this makes me so happy, I hope you stick with me on this one. I do apologize for delays in posting - I would like to deliver the best I can for you guys and girls. But this story will be finished - promise!

So, enjoy, please leave comments, and keep on reading and writing!

* * *

It happened just days before Christmas. The wails of the firetrucks and ambulances broke the air above the idyllic town, decorated in the twinkling holiday nights. It was early enough in the evening, that the police station was packed with officers and civilians. Not much later that night, a survivor would tell her story, visibly shaken yet still trying to look alluring for the cameras (some things never change in California), her face still covered in soot. And of course, the media would swoop down and all around the smoldering building, hoping to get a glimpse of the atrocities that took place there just over an hour ago.

The few survivors that did make it out of the building that night, describe a regular-looking man (would you believe, the crazies are always nondescript), in his 30s, maybe early 40s, walking into the station and without saying a word - emptied a gun clip into three officers and three civilians. Methodically, one by one. As the people scrambled - some dropping to the floor, screaming, others - reaching for their weapons, the man reached to his belt and a split second later sound, light and heat engulfed the rooms.

Hours later, Neptune was still lit up, even though the fire been contained. The explosion destroyed half of the building, but luckily many survived. The lights of the firetrucks and first responders lit up the night sky for a long time. The line of stretchers seemed to never end, and each one was followed by the callous flashes of the nosy newspaper photographers.

The Sheriff, as luck would have it, was not on duty that evening. Being the sheriff of Neptune came with many perks, and having time off during the prime hours was one of them. Christmas, much like most holidays, brought out it's own brand of crazy. The kind of crazy that seemed to deliberately and directly oppose the "good will towards men". In Neptune, it usually meant some vandalism, occasional drug-related shooting, and of course a few good-old domestic disputes. None of which Lamb intended to bother with, not around Christmas. It was the lousiest time, even without the cliche loneliness and his binge drinking. It was a time of lousy music, lousy TV, and even lousy criminals. Well, his "prayers" have been answered - there was one crazy that decided to go all out on this one.

Not that he did not enjoy the attention of the press, but it's one thing when you are grinning in front of the hot little number with a microphone because you caught whatever schmuck was making waves that month. It's a totally new flavor of unsettling, when you are asked questions like "Where were you when over a dozen of your officers were killed and maimed?" "What could you tell us about what happened?" "What will you do to make sure something like this does not happen again?"

To that, Lamb so much wanted to tell that "hot little number" "I will pull a magic-fuckin' wand out of my ass, and turn back time, or make it so that all people are good and normal, how is that?" But, instead, he felt his face tense up, his heart clench, and uttered the same damn nonsense that he prepared ahead of time. The words were stale, they felt fake, like himself. He was a fraud, and he knew it from the day he slapped that badge on his chest. He knew it. Keith Marse knew it. His daughter knew it. Hell, the whole town probably knew it. And now it was all catching up to him.

Among the dead were Inga and Sacks. The only two people in Neptune that resembled anything friend-like for him. Inga, luckily, died from a gunshot wound. Instant death. Sacks was caught in the back, when the fire rolled in. He survived for six agonizing days before finally letting go. When Lamb visited him at the burn center in San Diego - that was no longer Sacks. He nearly drank himself dead that night in a shitty motel - he did not even make it back to Neptune. But with the morning came realization that he had to crawl into his uniform, and face up to inquiries, questions, reports, and memorial services. And there seemed to be no end of those.


	2. What hurts the most

_Roughly a few days after the incident. Sorry for the length, hope you enjoy it._

* * *

Inga's funeral was torturous. Veronica felt empty and lifeless - she knew the woman for so long. Another loss, and in such a terrible and pointless way. Will this nightmare never stop?

The eulogy was short, but lovely. Inga's brother flew in from Seattle and said many nice things about her. Veronica just hoped that her eyes would be able to see again, but the tears did not seem to stop from flowing. Keith also cried - he knew Inga the much longer. Father and daughter did not speak much, but Keith's reassuring hand, wrapped tightly around her shoulders, seemed to be the only thing that was holding her together.

She saw Don in the crowd - he kept to the back. His face stern and stormy, his trademark smirk was gone. She felt too empty to even be furious with him, although - what could he have done? A part of her wanted to make him her personal scapegoat for this tragedy (and she wasn't the only one), but an even bigger part of her was glad that he was not there that evening. Good or bad, he was a part of her life, of her history in this damned town, that seemed to take everything she ever cared for. Piece by piece. She broke free of it, but wouldn't you know it - it found a way to clip her little wings and send her plummeting down to the ground once again.

Don did not look at her, or anyone else. He was not in uniform, but a simple dark suit - that was strange. Veronica did bump into him as they were exiting the chapel, and before she could open her mouth to say (_what? I hate you for this? I'm glad that you are alive?_), his eyes simply passed her over. His heavy gaze did connect with Keith's for a moment, but neither of them said a thing. An unspoken pain, shared and searing, bound the two men. Keith nodded to the Sheriff, but the latter did not return the gesture and simply exited the church, as if running away. The newspapers were outside - barred from entering the church. Veronica watched Don pass the gauntlet of flashing camera lights and head straight to his cruiser. His tires screeched just loud enough for everyone to turn their head towards him, as he drove off.

The Mars' stayed with the family through the ceremony, the burial and the humble get together at Inga's small home. It was painful to see her pictures still on the wall - her with Keith, her with Don, her, smiling, with her brother. She had no family, other than her brother Sven, to leave behind. That was a small consolation, perhaps, but there was no shortage of people who came to honor her on her last journey.

Keith stayed with Sven - they shared more memories about Inga than anyone else in this town. Veronica, exhausted emotionally and physically, excused herself and left for home. All she wanted to do it take off this black dress, that she hoped to never wear again in her life, and crawl under the covers. She just wanted to hide from all of this. Driving past the beach, she noticed a car on the sand. The headlights were on, but it was too far from the freeway to see what it was. As she drove past closer, she saw that it was a police cruiser. She felt a strange jolt in her stomach. She slowed down, and saw deep tracks in the sand. Hesitating for a moment, she pulled over and looked back, peering from her window. It looked like someone was near the car, but the siren lights were not on. "_Just drive, Veronica, you can't handle this._" That was the logical part of her speaking, but the voice was instantly drowned by the buzzing sound of "_what if someone's hurt? What if, who is it? why is this?_" She backed up her car to where the tracks into the sand started, and turned off the engine. Checking her bag for the taser, she stepped out of the car and headed towards the police cruiser.

The air smelled so much like that night when she and Lily went skinny dipping. It was a happy memory, but Veronica forced herself to shoo it off. This could be anything. A bust gone wrong, an officer down. She needed to be alert. She did not call out to anyone - that is the dumbest thing to do - her Dad taught her that. _Assess the situation first, don't alert anyone to your presence until you know it's safe._ Nearing the vehicle, she saw someone sitting on the hood. Coming closer, she realized that it was Don. He was staring off into the blackness of the ocean. There was a half-finished six-pack of beer next to him and a nearly empty bottle in his hand.

"Sheriff?" - Veronica called out, not sure whether to just bolt running or ask if he is al right. She did not even notice, that she called him by his proper title.

Don's back jerked, and he quickly turned around, visibly startled. For a moment he looked confused, as if Veronica's - was the last voice that he expected to hear.

"The fuck you want, Mars?" - he said, turning away and hopping off the hood. He looked disheveled, and his suit jacket looked to be stained with beer. - "Came to tell me what a terrible failure I am as a human being?"

Veronica said nothing. Despite the venom in his voice, he looked strangely vulnerable. She had never seen him this way, not even when he was still a deputy. She wasn't sure on what to do - this way beyond awkward. This was nearly frightening. Although her brain usually would come up with a witty response with a lightning-like reflex, now she was simply speechless. Her grief taken that desire to hurt Lamb. Suddenly he seemed human. Flawed. Hurting.

"I can use a drink." - she mustered to squeeze out of her. _What are you doing, Veronica, just go!_ - she thought.

Lamb said nothing, and part of her was scared that he will simply tell her to go fuck herself. But he simply shifted his weight, losing his balance for a second, and slid the six pack towards her. She took a bottle out - it was warm. Domestic - she twisted the cap off and took a sip. It tasted as terrible as she imagined it to be. The gust of wind brought the unmistakable smell of stale beer - Lamb has been drinking a lot.

"Sheri...Don..I.." - she started, still trying to wrack her brain, grasping for any appropriate words in this situation. But she came up empty. She never knew how to comfort someone who was in pain. She could hold them, she could cry with them, she could try to joke the pain away. But dealing with it directly and honestly - she just did not know how to do this. And this was not the man that wanted to be held, not by her anyway.

"You know what's the worst? I completely forgot her birthday. Did you know it was just a couple of weeks ago?" - Lamb said suddenly, turning to her. His eyes burned holes in her, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Veronica nodded - of course she knew. She sent her a card with a picture of a Llama on it - Inga adored llamas.

"Of course you knew, Veronica Mars - she knows everything. Nothing gets past you, doesn't it?" - he words felt like stings. He smirked, looking more bitter than smug, and took a sip of the beer. - "and just when I think there would be ONE tiny spot in this town where I don't have to answer to anyone, here you are. Came to expense some of Mars wisdom on the matter, little girl?"

Veronica's cheeks flushed. Deep down inside she knew that this was grief talking, but her nature told her again and again that this is Lamb were talking about. He doesn't get frazzled, he doesn't grieve. He doesn't' care about anything but himself and himself only. Does he?

She prepared a smart-ass remark, but he turned away. He shoulders slumped, his gaze lost in the darkness. Suddenly she wanted nothing but to feel something human, something assuring. She did not want to cause pain, or engage in a verbal assault with him. Her hand shaking, she reached out and touched his shoulder.

"This was no one's fault, not yours, not anyone's. Ing..she would tell you the same thing." - Lamb looked at her hand on his shoulder, disbelief spreading on his face. - "You know, she cared for you so much."

This was true, despite it all, Inga always thought of Lamb as her dopey little brother. Another thing that Don never knew about, most likely.

"I am so sorry." - she said quietly.

"For what?" - he asked her.

"For this, for what you had to face in this past week, for not being there…" - Veronica trailed off. _What on earth was she talking about?_ The worst part, was that she meant every word of it. As if years of disdain and lack of trust, callousness and thinly-veiled hatred melted away and she wanted to do nothing more than to take away this hurt. This burden that he had to bear. That they all had to bear.

Lamb grabbed her hand, not rough but earnest. Before Veronica could react, she felt his warm lips on tops of hers. He tasted like alcohol - she did not like that, but his kiss was melting something inside of her. She did not even notice when he maneuvered his body and pinned her to the side of his car, her small body now completely enveloped in the scent of stale beer and his cologne. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his thumbs gently caressing her hips. It was great, Veronica noted, somehow safe and familiar. She had thought of him kissing her many times through the years, especially when she was much younger and he was just her dad's handsome deputy. She thought of it later on too, but always told herself that she is just a sucker for "baby blues". That it was not him, just ….

"Thanks." - Don broke the kiss off and without letting go of her hips, just stared down at her.

"God, sheriff, how drunk ARE you?" - she said in her usual manner, hoping that he will return back with a snarky remark. Snarkiness made things less weird. Snarkiness was familiar. This was a whole new ground that neither of them seemed to be prepared to break.

But Don said nothing, he did not smirk, nor did he move his hand from her. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then lightly brushed her lips. Veronica could feel her head spinning. _This was not really happening, was it? what are they doing here? Why is he doing this? Why was he so damn good at it?_

Don traced the side of her neck with a kiss, and planted a deep one on the collar bone. None of it felt vulgar, unlike what Veronica thought it might be. That is when she allowed herself to entertain the possibility of kissing the "worst Sheriff that Neptune has ever seen". But this, no, this was real, human, tender. And she loved every moment of it. Don stopped kissing her neck, and his raspy whisper reached her ear:

"Too drunk to think straight, but not drunk enough to blame this on the beer." - and returned to kissing her neck, as Veronica's body covered itself in goosebumps.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special,deputy." - her eyes fluttered as he licked her earlobe. (_Just shut up, Veronica,_ she told herself, _just enjoy this for crying out loud. You need this. He needs this. Just shut your mouth and don't ruin it_). But it was too late. Don was looking at her, her hands no longer on her hips, but on his car. Still trapped by his towering frame, and looked into his eyes, hoping to find the answers to this. But he simply stared at her with a mixture of desire and sadness.

"Do I? Why don't you run along, little girl. This is a bad place to be this late at night." - Slowly, he shifted his weight, and Veronica found herself to be free. The gust of ocean air pummeled her in the face as if in punishment. Was it her? Was it because she couldn't shut up?

Almost ready to cry, and hoping that Don would reconsider, she steadied herself. The treacherous sand, and her knees, weakened by Don's kiss - at this point she was just hoping that she could walk away gracefully, without falling on her face. Don stepped away from her, and with an awkward grace hopped back onto the hood of his car. He seemed to have disappeared - at least the human Don that she saw just a moment away. The human and tender Don that she could only dream about, the one who kissed her like no one else had kissed her before - skillfully and patiently, was gone. Only the Sheriff remained, and Veronica, swallowing tears that were now flowing freely down her face, hurried to her own car. This was indeed, a bad night to be out.


	3. Whiskey Lullaby

This one is a shorty one, sorry. I am researching some information to move forward with the story. Please leave reviews - this is my first attempt at a fanfic, so any feedback is super welcome.

Week or so after Sack's funeral. Roughly two weeks after the bombing.

* * *

The day was almost over, and even though he still had a stack of files to go through, Don already poured at least 3 shots worth of cheap whiskey into himself already. He was on auto-pilot, glancing over the cases, singing here and there. Most of the details eluded him - this has become the new normal in the past couple of weeks. The mayor assured the feds, that "they will receive the NPDs full cooperation in uncovering this potentially terrorist attack on the station". And Don obliged fully - there was little else that he could do. The tabloids were eagerly waiting for him at every turn, sniffing around for any scrap, ready to crucify him over every word he uttered.

Just over two weeks ago, his dull yet comfortable life was turned upside down. Any hopes of re-election for the next term - up in smoke, along with the old station. The temporary location was a two story office building downtown .One one side, there was the "le Petite Pooch", a dog grooming establishment pretentious enough to attract only the classiest owners of the ugliest dogs in Neptune, The temporary Sheriff's office on the other side was, not without a cruel jab at himself, he figured, a bakery. While the store windows featured overly-elaborate mini-cakes and various muffin concoctions, "The Ruby Red" was nothing but a glorified donut shop.

The only good thing that Don found positive in this new arrangement was the fact that he still had a job. Neptune had always two things that it excelled at: ass-kissing when you are on top, and pitch-fork massages the minute you hit the ground. And lately, he was finally able to fully feel what Keith must have felt a few years back, only he still had his job. For now at least. While most of the influentials in town have no openly chased him down the streets with buckets of tar and feathers, the families of the victims were out for blood. It did not help that the news-hyenas got a whiff of the Sheriff getting questioned by the FBI for possible negligence.

Despite the whispers, Don made sure that his uniform looked impeccable in the morning, that his Listerine packs were safely tucked in the breast pocket of his jacket, and that the Mints adequately covered the smell of alcohol on his breath. Double the freshness. And once at the office, he spent most of it in his office, thankful that the bottom drawer was big enough to house a bottle of good ol' Jim Beam - is that not the official label of lost causes? Don felt it should be. Perpetually hung over, he mentally saluted his father with each shot that he poured down his throat The bastard always did always call him a useless piece of shit, and that's exactly how he felt.

It was only late in the evening, as he laid in bed, mindlessly flipping the channels, that he allowed his mind to return to that night. The night when he stole something so sweet, that he thought was going to sustain him for weeks, months to come. Veronica's flushed skin, her small body pressed against his. Her lips, timidly at first, but responding to his. He was never one to give into romantic notions - sex is sex, and a kiss was always just a cherry on top. But not this. His memory was hazy, he remembered drinking, he remembered driving to the beach. He remembered wanting to do so much more than just kiss her, but ended up having her storm off. Quite the usual Don Lamb performance, he thought to himself. But he could not recall what he said. Who cares? She was gone, back to college. She did come back for Sack's funeral, but he only caught a glimpse of her once. He did not look for any further contact. What was the point?

Yet, the nights brought in one thing that he held on to - the memory of something that could have been, Had he not been him. Maybe he had a chance a long time ago, before Lily Kane died. Now it was just a hazy, alcohol-fueled fantasy of a broken man.


	4. Who Says You can't Go Home

**Sometime later, perhaps a few months after the bombing. The college semester is over and Veronica is back home on a case. Sorry for jumping timeline like that, I intend to fill in the gaps with more, but I realize the story is a bit bare bones for now. **

**Characters**: Veronica, Keith, Vinnie. Mention of Lamb, Mac, Cassidy. Couple of new OC, but nothing major. Spoiler for ending of Season 2. Let's lighten the mood in the story a bit, shall we? Rated K. Please leave reviewed to give me suggestions on the story. I know some facts might be wrong (Veronica's past love-life in HA is kind of hard to keep track of :) Sorry for any mistakes and hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Veronica stepped out of her car outside of the new apartment. Her father was standing outside, holding his field briefcase.

"Out with the old, in with the new?" - Veronica called out, reaching up to hug him.

"You know it, my favorite daughter. Say, have you had breakfast yet?"

"Do you need me to file some invoices, dad?" - Veronica wrinkled her nose yet flashed him her famous smile.

"Yes, but you will be richly rewarded with waffles." - Keith grinned, checking his watch, Veronica laughed - she loved that some things always stayed the same. - "Your getaway car is late, Pops?"

"It's hard to find good help these days, and all the good ones are,,," - a grey Toyota pulled up by the curb, and Veronica was greeted with Vinnie's grinning face.

"Not that?" - Veronica said, giving Vinny a half smile. - "Dad?"

"Don't worry, honey. PI work, much like politics makes strange bedfellows."

"You had to make this so much worse in my head, didn't you?" - she shook her head, but gave Keith a peck on the cheek. - "I guess you have to do what you have to do to provide the dowry for your only poor daughter."

"Indeed." - Climbing into the car, he gave her one last glance. His heart wanted nothing more than to blow off this case and spend the whole day catching up with her. College time for him has been impossibly long - every moment that his daughter was not home, he felt utterly lost. But he knew that this was the burden of a parent - you get them fed, you get them clothed, teach them to fly and off they go.

Veronica sighed, as Vinnie drove off. Keith did mention that he was possibly going out of town for a case, but only for a day or two, no more. As much as she missed dad, this gave her a chance to run some errands for her new case. And her father frowned on taking cases on during the school year, especially after the whole business with Mercer. She did not blame him - she needed to concentrate on her studies, but people found her. She tried to be selective about what kind of cases she took - a missing necklace here, a cheating boyfriend there, but word did spread. On the other hand, between school, hanging out with Mac and Parker, and an occasional party - there was little to do for her at Hearst. At least she stopped running into Logan - he finally took the plunge and dropped out in the middle of the first semester. She could see it coming, and felt guilty for not having enough faith in him. But with everything that happened, and the breakup - bigger part of her was glad that he was no longer around.

Her father was true to his word - the waffles were under the tinfoil on the table. And so was the stack manila envelopes, ready to be stuffed, stamped, and shipped off. Veronica grinned, as she stuffed a spoonful of Aunt Jemima-laden goodness in her mouth. this felt right. This was familiar. This was home.

After the invoices were done, and the waffles were gone, Veronica unpacked her bag, took a quick shower, and went over her case notes. Not overly complicated case - Janine from her Communications class asked her to help with her brother's case. He was accused of stealing some jewelry, but Janine said that according to the timeline that the cops gave them, he was visiting her at Hearst during that time. Of course, visiting was a loose term - he spent most of the time getting drunk of his ass with the frats, so other than Janine - there were very few people that could identify him. Unfortunately, his party-buddies were just as incoherent most of the time as he was.,

And with the history of prior misdemeanor, and the fact that stolen jewelry was found in his apartment - the cops did not dig further. To Veronica this sounded familiar. And even though the case for Jack's innocence was thin, Janine assured her that he was. There was proof - he was pulled over for running a stop light in Neptune during the time that he was supposedly robbing the pawn shop. Problem was - this happened in the fall, a couple of months before the station (and most likely the documents within) were destroyed in the blast.

So, Veronica already saw a problem. He may be innocent, there might be proof, but the proof might have been destroyed in the blast. And even if the proof remained - her contacts were gone. Her dad did tell her that the old station was under construction, but most of the files were shipped to the San Pedro's storage facility - and that was 20 miles south of Neptune. With Inga gone, as well as most anyone she knew at the department and trusted - so were her chances of getting her hands on those records. Provided they existed.

Of course, there was always the Sheriff. Veronica sighed, closing the folder and mindlessly undoing the clip in her hair. Then she re-tied her locks into a bun again and clasped the clip back on. Her mind was miles, no months away from the present. The following days after their meeting at the beach were hard. Between grieving for Inga, and hearing about Sack's passing. His funeral, and trying to concentrate on her classes in between - the kiss has been both a blessing and a curse. "_Oh, Lambio, Lambio, wherefore art thou such a Lambio…"_ she told herself. Of course she wasn't stupid about the heat between them through all these years. The banter - it was fun, it was risky, it was the kind of foreplay that only two enemies can share. It was platonic (wasn't it?). After all, it's not like he was going to drop his rich floozies that loved to hang on the popular handsome sheriff, and propose undying love to a pain in the ass high school student.

Plus, she was with Duncan, then Logan, then Duncan, then Logan, then Troy…

Veronica washed her dish and the waffle maker (thanks dad!), but her mind was racing. There was no way around it. She will have to man up and go to Lamb. He will, most likely, throw her out of his office - Keith mentioned that he changed in the past few months and for the worse. Became reclusive, brash, almost to the point of abusive to his staff (as if that was not the case before). He did mention that he also became vicious. The few times they had to cross each other's paths, instead of exchanging some good-natured teasing, Lamb was simply dismissive and downright rude. He was a different man. Veronica had her work cut out for her - as if things were not difficult with Lamb before. The only time he ever had any inkling to help her before (and she used the term "help" quite loosely), was if he had something to gain. Like his smug face plastered on the local newspaper with a catchy headlines like "Local Sheriff busts the drug ring" and "The crook no longer on the lam from Lamb". Yes, that was an actual thing. Veronica wanted to save that one for the future amusement, but decided against it. The last thing her dad needed to find was a budding collection of newspaper clippings about the sheriff. That would just be a whole new flavor of weird.

Veronica was not the kind to procrastinate. Some people (like Mac for example), met with a hard task, found endless ways to do other things. She always picked on Mac, because whenever her friend started taking apart her computer and make sure that not a speck of dust covered the already-immaculate cooling fan, it meant that she was avoiding something. Usually that something was - calling a boy back. Veronica knew that Cassidy broke her in many ways. He broke Veronica too, but she felt that Mac's hurt was overshadowed by her own tragedy. She tried to make sure that Mac knew this - she was a victim too. True, that little worm did not kill her friend, attempt to kill her father, did not rape her, but a broken heart is a broken heart. A first love spat on - that kind of hurt stays with you for a long time.

Veronica, was the opposite when it came to challenges - the harder was the task, the brighter she shined. Challenges were exciting, things to overcome, problems to solve. Like delicious little puzzles, wrapped in social engineering - her whole nature craved to solve them. But not this time. She wanted nothing more but to delay the inevitable meeting with Lamb. There was simply no other way.

She looked through her wardrobe - a simple light blue t-shirt with a birds print on it and her favorite pair of jeans. Comfortable and familiar. Something that does not scream "_hey, you kissed me in the moonlight and now I can't stop thinking about it". _Looking in the mirror, she opted for less make-up. Some pale pink lip-gloss and a light dusting of powder. No need to put on the war paint, she thought. She pondered on what to do with her hair for a moment, tempted to tie it into the two pigtail buns (her horns, as Lamb used to call them when she was 14). She knew he was fond of those. But it didn't feel appropriate. She was no longer 14, and she was no longer trying to get on the good side of her favorite deputy. With that thought, she opted for a simple ponytail, that was loosely falling down the back of her neck. A light blue sparkle clip to finish it off, and a couple of loose strands of hair to frame her face. It felt flush, her face that is. Why was she this nervous? No matter what it will go bad either way, so why stress over it? Just make the best effort, and then look for other options.

She chose her simple white keds to complete the outfit. Nodding to herself in the mirror, she grinned "_Knock em dead, kiddo!_" Then, grabbing her messenger bag and the car keys - she headed outside into the midday California sun.


	5. Missing you

**Ok, I think we need to bring Lamb to the scene again. this chapter is broken up between some flashbacks, and POV changes. **

**Characters: Lamb, Veronica, Mentions of Keith. **

* * *

Minutes, hours, days, weeks ticked away at a maddening slow pace. Yet, they time also seemed to be flying by. Winter turned to spring, but Don always found himself to be mentally stuck in some twilight state of being cold. As it the winter stayed, but only around him.

This morning, looking in the mirror, he pondered if he should shave. His two-day stubble was beginning to look more "homeless desperation", and not the "dashing-outlaw". Not that he really cared anymore. The mayor was already talking about replacing him - it was all over the town. The only delay was the fact that his first replacement option was a "Gonzalez". That was not the man's name, that was supposed to be replacing him - it was some transplant from Miami, named Batista. But as you have it, Neptune would not stand for an "ethnic" sheriff, so Don had some time to ponder what he was going to do once he was given the boot.

Truth be told, he both feared and wanted to be let go. Admittedly, he simply did not have the balls to walk out on his own - there was nowhere to go. He had some savings, but not enough to make a fresh start, and definitely not in California. He felt too old and too beaten down to go back to another attempt for an acting career in LA (and God knows his drinking did not improve his looks). He was still too proud to become some rent-a-cop or a mall security schmuck - sporting a slushie in one hand, and guiding his Segway with the other. That was too much. He considered going back home to Georgia, but there was nothing to come back to. His sister long-married and moved on with her life. His mother long dead, and his father...Well, let's say that's one family tie that he never intended to revisit. As far as he knew, from the scant news that his sister would deliver, he was still working at the Governor's office, still drinking, and still made no attempts to participate in any of his children's lives.

Don, with a sigh, pulled out a razor, and started to shave. It was a dry shave - the skin underneath started to tingle and then burn, but he didn't care. After putting on his uniform and clasping the belt over him, he felt better. His body, accustomed to the familiar weight of the belt and the gun, felt like things are the way they were before. He still worked out every other day, perhaps even with more fury than before - if anything it helped him to not put on weight from his main diet choice as of late - some Jim Beam and col pizza.

It's been months since he picked up anyone at the bar, or was even approached by anyone beyond an occasional hooker. It did not matter. No respectable Neptune local would go near him, and the rest - well, he was not at the point of desperation just yet.

While responding to a shoplifting call at the Neptune Mall, he did see Madison Sinclair. He knew that she saw him too, but the little witch simply stuck her nose up in the air and pretended that she didn't see him. No matter. She was a stupid mistake, but a welcome distraction at the time.

The FBI grilled him for weeks, it felt like, about the threat that the station received two months before the bombing. They looked under every rock - as luck would have it, he did everything right on that front. He checked out the lead, found no one to arrest, and the note was eventually dismissed as a fluke. For two months, nothing happened, and no one came through with the vague threats. To this day, there was nothing to even tie the bombing to the note, but the media made sure to twist the details and FBI investigation, and chuck the tragedy up to his incompetence. The families of the victims wanted to bring him up on charges for negligence, but there was simply nothing that he directly could be blamed for. Although, deep down inside, Don always felt that if he was a better cop, perhaps he wouldn't have given up. He wouldn't been just too stupid to figure it out. If he had Keith. If he had Veronica.

He chuckled, taking a swig from the flask - how cliche was this? Popping a strip of Doublemint into his mouth, he searched for his car keys. He needed Veronica. Always. From the day he met the bubbly pep-squad poster child, to the day he watched her leave the cemetery, after Sack's funeral. That was the last time he had seen her, and it was insanely hard. He missed her, he even missed her father. He missed the jokes, the banter, and most of all - he missed feeling like his life was whole.

Whenever a call came through to the department about Hearst - he made sure to go, but as luck would have it - she was never around. Either that, or she was simply hiding from him. Their last meeting was anything but not awkward. No wonder she ran off. Will she comes back, who knows? He certainly hoped so, after all Mars' always traveled in pairs, and he just couldn't see her leaving her daddy's protective wing for good.

It was nearly ten o'clock - he was late for work, as if that mattered. He wondered if the Mayor had already shipped himself a "non-brown" replacement for him? The keys were hiding under the sofa, and after fishing them out from the pile of dust, he finally headed for the door. Well, this should be a sufficiently lousy day in Neptune, just like any other.

* * *

Veronica pulled out from her parking space - she really did like the new place. Her dad was finally able to afford to move to a place closer to the office. It was not as cozy or roomy (if you can call the old hole roomy), but it did the trick. Veronica had a small room with windows towards the street, which offered a nice view of downtown. The shower was always impeccable, and hot water was never an issue.

Her hands, as if moving on their own accord, turned the steering wheel towards the nearest Starbucks. Of course, what's a day without a nice venti cup of chai tea? With whipped cream on top, and perhaps a dusting of cocoa. She was telling herself that this was just a necessary part of life - like eating, like bathing, like exercising. One must caffeinate to live, even though she was trying to cut down on coffee lately. Sleeping well became a privilege she so rarely been fortunate enough to receive. Sleeping lately has been more of a confusing mess of terrible dreams, uncomfortable bed sheets and occasional drunken yelp of her dormroom neighbors. Yet, she was glad that she decided to move to the Hearst dorm, rather than making the commute from home everyday. Eventually she will need to move out from under dad's wing, and this was practice. Veronica hated the idea of moving out, but she also did not want to become the "living in your daddy's basement" cliche.

The girl at the drive-through smiled, handing her the chai tea. Before pulling out, Veronica sucked on the straw, the cool liquid filling her with sweet and spicy goodness. Now what? Before she allowed herself to be distracted by something else, she spotted a police cruiser starting to turn into the drive through. Her heart made a helpless flutter, and settled down somewhere at the bottom of her stomach. She pulled the car forward and exited the drive-through, and started to drive away. Old habits die hard, and instead of driving off, she made a quick circle (or an agonizingly long one, because of the traffic), and pulled up in front of a small shop across the street. The cruiser was next in line - she didn't miss it. Something told her it MUST be Don. Maybe if she could see him, she could prepare mentally. Perhaps she will magically read his thoughts and know what to say. Veronica laughed "_That'll be the day. Admit it, you are scared like a hot-dog on a grill, and looking for reasons to not go._" She sat in her car, checking out the cruiser in her side mirror, but could not see whoever was driving it. Finally, the driver got his order, and pulled out. She should be able to see the driver now - he could only turn right, so his face would be seen clearly.

As it always happens, the traffic parted like the red sea for the cop car, and it turned into the stream of cars. Veronica exhaled, not without disappointment - it was not Don. Some unknown young officer, sucking on his latte. She bit her lip. "_Look, girl, you can either freak out all the way to the station, or just suck it up. It will be bad. Just repeat after me - it will be AWFUL. But it won't be as awful as many other awful things that happened to you before. There is a limit to what he can say or do to hurt you, understand it?_" She started up the car and pulled out into traffic again. After ten minutes or waiting at the light, she was finally able to make a u-turn and start towards the station. A town this small certainly did have an obscene amount of traffic.


	6. Where've you been?

Don heard the knock on his door. Lifting his head from the newest issue of "Sports Illustrated" he barked:

"What is it?"

Deputy Stewart's head popped in.

"Sheriff, there is a young woman here to see you. She said her name is Veronica Mars."

Don swallowed, and the blood rushed to his face. Just like that, she was here. Before he could protest, his mouth already decided his fate:

"Send her in."

He hurriedly stashed the magazine under some paperwork and grabbing a random sheet off the top of the pile, pretended to deeply engrossed in it. Before he could finish twisting his face into his finest "slightly bored, yet thoughtful" expression, a painfully familiar little voice filled his small office.

"Deputy!" - She was leaning on the door frame, sporting a bright and mischievous smile. Not all all he expected to see. Her smile tugged at his heart, and he had to clench his jaw so that his own face did not betray him and flash one back. She lifted a hand, as it to stop him:

"Now, before you say anything, I brought a peace offering." - she held up her hand with a paper bag in it. The bag had Ruby Red's logo splattered on it. - "Bear claw?"

He stared at her, dumbstruck. It was obvious that she waited for him to say something. Finally, he peeled his lips apart and squeezed out:

"I'm very busy Mars. Aren't you supposed to be at college?"

"Young impressionable minds can only take so much impressing in one year, Deputy." - she strolled in and placed the bag on his desk. - "Plus, its the summer break. So you will have the pleasure of my company in this town for a couple of months."

There was nothing left for him to do but to wave her towards the chair across from his desk. He pretended to return to reading what appeared to be actually a take-out menu, and not some report, as he hoped. Still, a quick glance offered him a fine view of her nestling into the chair.

"What is this?" - He nodded at he bag, and immediately cursed himself for being an inconceivable moron. Did she not just say it was a bear claw, which sounded very enticing. Almost as enticing as the giver herself.

"Why, a way to a man's heart, of course." she said, looking around the stuffy little room. One wall was filled with stacked boxes, with files sticking out of the random folders. The blinds were drawn shut, but even in this dim light she could tell that it had not been dusted for some time. The office looked sad and small. Veronica was hoping that he didn't notice her hands shaking. She noted, that his eyes narrowed, when she mentioned "his heart", and held her breath. This was it - the defining moment. It was obvious that he was looking for a reason to boot her out: it was practically written on his face. She also noted, that his face looked a little puffy, and the air in the office was filled with a slight, but a familiar scent of stale booze. The kind of scent that seeps through the skin of a habitual drinker. Her mother made sure that Veronica could spot a drinker from a mile away, and this pained her. She waited patiently,batting her eyes, hoping it wasn't too much. It was like watching a deer in the wild - just hold your hand out with a piece of bread (or a bear claw) and stand still, and maybe, just maybe it won't dash away at your slightest move. On the other hand, maybe if she kept talking, he will just listen. Keep 'em distracted and confused - that's a tactic that she used quite often. But her favorite "deputy" knew most of her tricks by now. Her mind was now racing at the pace of a Ferrari.

Lamb moved the bag out of the way, as if dismissing her peace offering. _Perhaps this was too much_, she thought. Childishly, she crossed two fingers on both hands, trying to appear as calm and friendly as she could muster. She was hoping to see the familiar grin, to hear some quick response. But he simply stared at her - looking tired and older. Finally he leaned back in his chair, and a semblance of a smirk started to appear on his face.

"_Never thought I'd be so thrilled to see that smirk again."_ - Veronica thought.

"A bear claw is hardly the way to mine, Mars."

"Sorry, but bringing in the whole cake just felt too much like brown-nosing, Deputy. Maybe it can be a little trail?" - she grinned. Don felt something inside of him soften. _Why was she here? A favor, no doubt. Really? Now?_

"So, what does Veronica Mars want to do with my heart?" - Don kicked himself "_Get off this topic, now!_" - "Wait, let me guess. You need a favor."

"You know me too well, Deputy." - she inclined her head and comically pressed her palm to her chest. He did not intend to throw her out after all. A promising start. - "Its a teensy tiny one, won't take a bit of your time."

Don sighed: whatever it was, suddenly he wanted her to ask him for anything in the world. Boredom, despair, loneliness, uselessness - all culminated in a desire to do something. ANYTHING. And Veronica brought excitement to his life. He shrugged and said:

"What is it?"

"Well, I need to pull up some records from October of last year - a traffic violation. I have the date, do you think it would be possible?"

"You do know that all of the old files are either destroyed or have been transferred to another facility? I don't really have neither the time nor desire to chase down some.."

Veronica frowned a little. This was just like the old times. I guess the more things change, the more they really do stay the same. To make things worse, had no leverage this time, there was nothing that she could offer in return. Dead-end. If the records did still exist, she would have to drive out to wherever they are keeping them, and find a way to get them. But how?

"Look, I know you never liked helping me, but can't we just turn over a new leaf? After all, it's been over a year since I last bugged you for anything." - Veronica felt desperate. It was not even about the case anymore, she just wanted to catch a glimpse of Don, her Don, not the sheriff. Not whoever this stranger was, sitting in front of her - well armored-up and imperceptible. Lamb stared at her, pondering. After a minute of awkward silence, Veronica stood up with an audible sigh. Don couldn't help but to glide his gaze over her slim frame, gentle curves. She looked adorable, as always. Slightly older, more mature, but she did not change much at all.

"_What are you doing, you idiot! Is this not what you have been hoping for for the past few months, and now you are blowing it!" _Don's brain sounded the alarm, as she turned towards the door. For a moment she hesitated, then sharply turned towards his desk and grabbed the bag with the pastry off of it.

"Well, then, I'll take my bear claw and go. It was great to see you, Deputy." - she offered him a sarcastic smile and started out.

"Give me the date and the time. I will look into it." - he suddenly said. Veronica spun around, ready to burst. This was unexpected. She wanted to throw her hands around him and give him a big sloppy kiss. Or perhaps a slow and hot one. Or just a series of small ones all over his face. The wall was coming down, and she was Hasselhoff, dancing at the top.

"I'll see what I can find out, Mars, but I wouldn't expect too much. The records room, as well as the server room were badly damaged."

"Thank you," - Veronica said sincerely, her bright smile lighting up the dim office. - "Call me if you have anything?" Lamb nodded, and pretended to go back to perusing the assortment of dim sum on the take-out menu, still hoping she didn't notice that it was not a report. Before she stepped out of his office, Veronica heard:

"Leave the bear claw."

Her head spinning, her face hurting from grinning - she was ready to skip down the parking lot. Unbelievable. He actually had agreed to help her. She held no hopes in the success of this enterprise, but the main thing was that he was willing to step outside of whatever emotional fort that he walled himself in. This made things easier. It was obvious, that he was not the same - as if the light inside had gone out. She didn't hear about the inquiries and most of the rumors about the bombing aftermath, but she did see a couple of tabloid front pages on campus. She knew that things were not right at Neptune PD, but seeing him - it was obvious that he was troubled.

Both sad and elated, she started the car. _Will he call?_ She hoped it will happen soon, or more like now. Suddenly, she was 14-year old girl again, shy and bubbly, blissfully unaware of the trials that awaited her in the years to come. She was giddy after talking to her favorite handsome deputy, and it felt lovely. "_Am I in love with the Sheriff? Again?_" she wondered, and her heart responded with the booming "_Yes, Yes, Yes_." It was wonderful, and painful in a wonderful kind of way. And she wanted this feeling to never stop, but loitering around the small parking lot was rather pointless. She needed to find something to occupy herself until Lamb decides to call her back. And she was praying that he would.

* * *

Don ruffled his hair, leaning back in his chair and stared the paper bag. A part of him wanted to sink his teeth in Veronica's "peace offering", but a part of him wanted to save it. After some deliberation he decided that it would be a waste of a perfectly good pastry to just let it sit there, and bit into it. He couldn't help but grinning - for the first time in months, the cold and the dark around him parted and he wanted to let the sun in.

Just like that, it took a whole, what, five minutes, for her to burst into his life like a tornado, stir up his heart and make him look forward to the next day. He was thankful she did not bring up the past. Turn over a new leaf - if only his habit and the wall of sarcasm could be demolished just as quickly. He didn't like the fact that for years, they have not exchanged a single genuine word. It was always a verbal fight, a contest on who can out-wise-ass who. Over time, this manner of communication started to translate almost to everyone around him. His staff, his occasional dates, even even his sister. Of course, his sister Darlene quickly got him out of that - she would not stand for any of that nonsense. But the rest of the people tolerated his way of callous and dismissive humor. And it was tiring, but the mask got stuck on his face, and like a bad habit - that's the way he remained.

Offering to help, no, simply submitting to Veronica's will and want - that was one thing. But is there anything actually that he could look for? One thing, however, that was promising - no matter how bad he screws this up - he is on the way out anyway. It felt liberating to not worry about the votes or the media - bad reputation had its charms. He could really do whatever he wanted and it just wouldn't get any worse than this. He picked up the phone and after digging through his Rolodex, found the number for the storage facility. The sooner he got something, the sooner he could hear her little chirping voice again.

"This is Sheriff Lamb, from Neptune PD. I need the records pulled up from October, Friday evening, around 10pm. Would have been on the corner of Main and Bay view. Yes, I'll hold."

* * *

Veronica paced around her room. It's been several hours, but there was no call from Lamb. With each passing minute, her hopes were growing dimmer and dimmer. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes to place a few calls. Perhaps this was a fluke, a new way he decided to toy with her. Give her hope and then crush it by simply never responding back. "_Kiss em and leave em, literally._" She sneered. "_No matter, I will march back into his office tomorrow with another bear claw, of course I'll have to add this as an expense. I didn't anticipate the pastry budget. Dammit, Ruby Red's is ridiculously expensive."_ - she told herself. Persistence was something that she excelled at, and even the sternest of tin-men eventually can be broken down, right? Veronica shook her head at the memory. The one thing that she wanted to tell him that day, after he told her to go see the Wizard, is to do the same and ask for a heart. But at the time, she just bit her lip and cried like a child.

She brushed the memories aside. She let go of that anger a long time ago. Nothing but a distant, filthy and painful memory. She let it roll down the hill of her mind and land in a ditch where she kept many other unpleasant things. Done and done.

Finally, tired of pacing, she decided to read "Inside the Criminal Mind" - one of her several chosen summer readings. Nothing brightens up a girl's day like delving into the minds of the criminal element. The day was coming to an end, and eventually the sun nestled itself beyond the horizon line. Veronica drifted off to sleep, the book still open in her hands. Her head resting on the sofa armrest. Her dreams were flighty, transparent. They were filled with images of rushing to get something done. The were about nothing and no one in particular. Cellphone's insistent jingle awoke her. Veronica scrambled to her feet and dug through her bag to find it, hoping not to lose the call. Without looking for the number, she glided her finger to unlock it:

"This is Veronica." - she was hoping that her voice did not tremble.

"Good to know." - Keith's voice answered. Veronica sighed, elated and disappointed at the same time. - "Just checking up on you sweetheart. I will be another couple of days, I am so very sorry to leave you by yourself. I promise I will make it up to you."

"I am fine, dad. The stripper will be here just in a few minutes, and me and the girls will spend the night doing shots out of his belly button."

"Sure, sure. Hey, do me a favor, when you get a chance. Stop by the office and pull up a file for me. Do you have a pen?"

Veronica wrote down the name and promised to do it first thing tomorrow morning. Wishing her dad goodnight, she looked outside. It was buildings wrapped themselves in a romantic glow of the street lamps and a soft barcarole flowed out of a nearby Italian restaurant across the street. She looked the the couples, sharing food and drinks on the patio of la Venecia. They looked happy. Veronica felt alone. Lonely. Not just now - it was catching up to her, and the sweet serenades from below did not help. Perhaps she could find out if Mac already made it home. Her friend still had some projects due, and had to stay at Hearst for a couple of more days. It was evident that Lamb was never going to call, so there was no point in sitting around and waiting for it. After all, she was a young, unattached woman, free to find adventure in the night. Veronica sighed - suddenly she lost the desire to go anywhere.

She walked into the small kitchen and opened the fridge. A bachelor's fridge, but it looked like her father did get some yogurt and grapes for her. She grabbed a cup of strawberry banana and headed to her room, when she heard a knock at the door. Maybe Mac did make it home after all!

Spoon in hand, she swung the door open, just to find herself face to face with the Sheriff.


	7. Stay

**Characters: Lam, Veronica, Mention of Keith. **

**Rated: T + **

**I am changing the name of the storage town, as I suck at geography. Please leave reviews. Sorry for any mistakes or inconsistencies. Suggestions appreciated. **

* * *

He was still in his uniform, his face lit by the streetlights. Veronica inhaled sharply, speechless - dammit, he looked good in that uniform. The soft yellow lights of the street made him look even more mysterious and romantic. Veronica unconsciously wet her lips. His face was unreadable, save for the intent and frank stare of his blue eyes. It was hypnotic. Finally, a crooked smile graced his lips.

"Afraid I have no peace offering. " - he shifted his weight, leaning on the door frame. Judging at how he cocked his head to the side, and sliding his thumbs under his belt, it was evident that he was ready to stay there for a while. Veronica steadied herself, and regaining the power of speech, stepped aside.

"Please come in, Deputy. Welcome to the humble casa de Mars."

Don stepped into the apartment, looking around. This place was unfamiliar, in fact up until he looked up her address an hour ago - he had no idea that they moved. - "Would you like some coffee, tea?" "_Whiskey?_" the venomous part of her whispered inside her brain, but she mentally slapped it down. "_Don't be cruel, Veronica._" It was evident that he was pretty lit as it is.

"Coffee, black." - he said suddenly quietly, sitting down on the stool, next to the breakfast bar. Veronica, still holding her yogurt in one hand and a spoon in the other, feverishly looked around the kitchen. It was organized according to her father's whimsy, and not her usual way. She finally located two cups and a bag of ground up coffee beans.

"Veronica, I'm afraid I couldn't get the records for you.. Well, it's not a complete dead-end, but…" - Don started. Veronica flashed him a smile, pouring the grounds into the brewer.

"I called the storage, and they said that the record in question was not on file. However, a lot of the files might have gotten mis-filed. There was nothing in the computers about a traffic stop that matched that date and time." - Don felt uncomfortable. - "Of course, depending on the case, the record might have not been entered into the system. chances are he was not given a ticket at the time."

"So, you are telling me that it's a most definitely, possibly maybe no?"

"Something like it. Short of formally requesting the storage clerk to sift through boxes and try to find a report that may not exist…"

"I see." - Veronica closed the lid on top of the water bucket and turned on the perk cycle. The brewer whirred and started the sweet siren call of caffeine. The aroma filled the air. - "I don't suppose you are are in need of another deputy for a day? A deputy who is awfully good at filing?"

Don smiled, and his smile was genuine.

"You sure you don't want the Sheriff's position instead?"

"Why, Deputy, I wouldn't want to throw you out of your cozy little kingdom!" - she laughed.

"So, which is it, the Deputy or the Sheriff?" - he asked, twirling the empty mug in his hands. His smile was penetrating her every defense. "_I could be completely off on this one, but I think he is actually flirting with me_" - she thought incredulously. "_And it feels to amazing_."

"I suppose it depends on the weather." - she bit her lip, thinking. Sure, she can always make a fake ID, pretend to be a criminology intern and lie her way in. Maybe she will offer to sort the files, who knows, she might even get paid to do that! Not a bad idea, actually. They sat in silence for a bit, as the brewer happily finished it's sweet Arabica song, and Veronica poured each a steaming cup. It was both awkward and comforting to have him sitting so close. He looked guarded, but his face held a semblance of the patented Lamb-smirk. A little crooked on one side, revealing a glimpse of impeccably white teeth.

"It's awfully nice for you to come by and tell me this in person, Deputy." - she said in her best southern bell voice. For reasons, that Veronica couldn't explain, southern bell and Don Lamb went hand in hand, at least in her head. Perhaps it was because she always equated sheriffs with cowboys - "I reckon it took you away from some mighty important business."

Don smiled into his cup - she sounded like Darlene. It took him years to shed off his own southern drawl. The only thing worse than being brown in Neptune, is to be a redneck. He even took speech classes when he first moved to California, of course back then he was still hoping to land an acting job. He worked hard on adopting non-regional accent, pure American, so he could be a well-rounded actor, instead of being cast type like some country bumpkin for years to come. But alas, the fates have decided that he was to play a Balboa County Sheriff, "hard on his luck and with a chip on his shoulder".

"No trouble at all, Miss." - he said, letting just a tiny bit of his drawl to seep through. The coffee was getting low, and he couldn't take smaller sips if his life depended on it. Asking for another would be awkward and needy. But he did not want to leave. This was the first time for a long time that he did not spend an evening alone, and spending it here with Veronica - felt like Heaven.

"Where is Keith?"

"Out cruising for babes." - she said, pouring herself another cup.. - "Actually out on a case, he won't be back for another couple of days." Calm and composed on the outside, her mind feverishly worked at devising a reason for him to stay longer. Could she not just say "_Hey, wanna watch some reality shows together? Snuggle on the sofa, eat some grapes? I think Cops reruns might be on."_" Always cautious, she was afraid that he will see the elation that she felt inside. Don, here, in my home. True, he took forever to deliver something that he could have just told her hours ago, instead of making her worry and wait. Then again, she always noticed the slight social awkwardness in him - the moment things didn't go Don's way, you could tell he started to unravel a bit. Usually he resorted to jokes and picking on her (or whoever might have been at fault, in his opinion), but more often than not, he simply ran and hid. Be it slamming his office door, or slamming his cruiser's door, or simply walking away - he seemed to prefer to wait until the world around him was playing by his rules. So, what made him to actually bother to come downtown after his shift and tell her that he was not able to be "her knight in brown polyester"?

"Another cup?" - Of all the brilliant schemes that she could come up, in order to indirectly asking him to stay - this seemed to be the most reasonable. Just a normal evening, two adults having an adult get-together, discussing some adult things. "_Adult get-together_ "- Veronica couldn't help but grin - _Grow up, Girl. You might have a handsome gentleman caller in your parlor, but he is still Don Lamb. Plus, it seems that he is drunk, so if anything, you are saving him from driving under the influence. Not that would get pulled over or anything, but he CAN hurt someone else._"

.

He nodded and Veronica poured him another cup. She blessed the universe for not granting humans the gift to read each other's minds, because her thoughts were starting to make her blush.

"Where is your restroom?" - he asked, suddenly, looking around.

"Down the hall and first door to your right. Watch the mirror - it falls if you slam the door too hard."

Don made his way to the bathroom, and carefully shut the door behind him. Once inside he exhaled. _What are you doing, Don_? His stomach felt woozy - he did not have anything but booze since lunch, and the bear claw was it. He splashed cold water in his face - he couldn't tell if he looked drunk or not. He didn't think he was, but lately, his sobriety standard was getting lower and lower. He unclasped his belt from his pants, and it heavily clunked to the counter. He un-clipped the radio as well, and loosened his tie. Pausing again, he wet his hand and ran it through his hair a bit, hoping to look more presentable.

He noticed a bottle of Herbal Essence on the side of the tub. Feeling like a creep, he opened it and inhaled the sweetness that escaped it. He turned it over and read the name - "Shea Butter and Vanilla". . It smelled like her. Smiling, he put it down. "_Al right, that does it. You are in her bathroom, sniffing her shampoo. What's next, you're gonna rifle through her medicine cabinet?_" The temptation to do just that became too much, and he quickly exited the bathroom.

Veronica was sitting on the couch and the TV was on. An Invitation to join her perhaps? He did not know the rules of this new game she played. He was a straightforward guy when it came to women, but not when it came to Veronica. With her, it was like a game of hopscotch - one wrong jump and you are out. Still, he picked up his mug and joined her on the other side, the cushions between them becoming an unspoken "No trespassing" zone. How very proper. Veronica gave him a small, uncomfortable smile.

"Hey, Veronica," - Don said. - " I was thinking." Knowing exactly what she was about to say, he simply rolled his eyes slightly, and made a circular motion with his finger. That made Veronica to close her mouth. - "I can, actually just hire you as part-time employee for the department. I'm not gonna lie, we have been short staffed, and the current records clerk don't think is going to work out. You would have my authority to visit the storage and pull whatever record that is needed."

Veronica looked at him, shocked. Did the sky just fall? Did Don Lamb just offer her a job at the Sheriff's department? Before he could change his mind, she gave him his sweetest smile:

"Why, Deputy, I thought you'd never ask!" - "southern bell" replied, hoping that he couldn't hear the trembling in her voice. - "Are you sure you can trust me to be so close to all your guarded secrets?" She bit his tongue, realizing that she unwittingly told him that she knew about his drinking problem.

"Please, stop it." - he shook his head, his face crestfallen. - "Enough with the accent, enough with the jokes. Can't we just talk? Like two regular people?"

"Of course." - Veronica's face grew serious. There was genuine note in his voice, and this is one thing she was hoping for would happen one day. - "Are you seriously offering me a job?"

"Yeah, I am. Of course, this is no FBI, but we do offer decent benefits. Plus, there is a bakery next door. And there is a puppy shop, or some shit, next door as well."

"Are you seriously trying to sell me the position with cupcakes and puppies?" - Veronica couldn't help but laugh out. Don laughed too.

"I guess I am. I am pretty desperate." - He said seriously, his eyes darkening. The uncomfortable feeling returned. - "So, what do you think?"

Veronica inhaled, not sure what to say. It was tempting - working at the sheriff's office would mean free access to whatever information she might ever need for many of their cases. But that also meant that her time with dad, and subsequently - Mars Investigations - would be limited. Plus, she wasn't sure if dad would want her working for Don.

"Frankly, Mars, I'm surprised. I would have thought that getting this close to the evidence room (or closet as of recently), would have meant an instant "yes"." - he cocked his head and studied her. _Say yes, Ronnie, baby. Just say yes._

"Tell me about the puppies again." - she leaned in, and folded her hands at her chest. She was disarming him, melting every defense. If she asked, her would have probably asked her to marry him - there there on the couch, still clutching his almost-empty mug of coffee. _Whoa, Don, where the hell did that just come from?!_

"They are small." - he said, suddenly feeling like the room became a sauna. The shirt collar felt like his neck was in a vice. - "and soft." "_And round_" he couldn't help but let his eyes travel past her face, down her neck and over two perfect little mounds under her blue T-shirt. "_And the most perfect pair of tits that I can imagine."_

"Well, in that case, I must...think about it? " - she smiled apologetically. He noted that his face fell, and offered - "My dad needs my help with a few cases. I just don't know if I can divide my time right now like that. Give me a week or so?"

Don nodded. A maybe was more than he could hope for. This morning, he was hating the sun for coming up and making him face the day. But tonight, he almost has a prospect of seeing her near him every single day.

"Deal."

"You won't hire someone else in the process?"

"There is no one else who can do the job to my satisfaction" - Don kicked himself mentally. "_If that's not a double-entendre, I don't know what is. Especially, if I think it's true."_ He wondered if she would slap him if he kissed her right now. An impromptu job offer - is that an appropriate time to lock lips with your potential employee?

Veronica smiled into her cup.

"Well, then…" - the silence settled around them like a fog. Suddenly, the Charmin commercial on TV seemed so much louder than necessary. Don started at the Charmin bears frolic on the screen, absentmindedly.

****

"So. How is college?"

"Interesting. Exasperating. Lonely, sometimes." - Veronica sighed. - "How..how are you?"

He shrugged. What can he say? _Terrible._

"Getting by." - He said - "It's been...strange. So many new faces, new place. Proximity to the donut shop is a plus." Veronica smiled. Don continued - "You know, the elections are in three months. I won't be running."

Veronica cocked her brow.

"Why not?"

Don didn't answer. He wasn't ready for this amount of sharing of himself all in one night. The reasons were numerous, and he didn't want to reveal any of them. Instead he just said:

"It won't affect my job offer for you. I assume you will be back to college by then anyway."

"What will you do? You going to stay in Neptune?" - She asked, unconsciously leaning towards him.

"I was thinking of opening a PI agency." - he said, with a completely serious face. Veronica could not help but laugh, then stopped herself. What if he is serious? But Don flashed her his pearly whites. - "Truth be told, I am not sure. I doubt that I'm going to stay here. Was thinking of going back home, I have a house down in Georgia. "

"So you are a good ol' southern boy, huh. " - perhaps she always knew this, that's why the southern drawl and him became synonymous in her head. Don nodded.

"Anyway, I'm going to head out. " - he finished his coffee and got up. Veronica panicked. _Don't leave! _She watched him go to the kitchen, and wash out his cup. She got up as well, not sure what to do now. They were finally talking like normal people, like adults. They were sharing something human at last. She wanted more, oh so much more.

"Thanks for the coffee, Mars. Hope you decide to work for me."

He headed for the front door. She was right behind him, waiting to reach out and grab him and never let him go.. He stopped suddenly, patting himself on the side:

"Shit, my belt.I left it in the bathroom." He spun around and almost collided with Veronica. It took only a second and a hurried breath for him to capture her face and connect with her lips. A small, helpless moan escaped her mouth, and as her lips parted - Don slid his tongue inside. He probed her mouth gently, as if testing out the waters.. She was still holding her cup, but with the other hand wrapped her fingers on the back of his neck, pulling his face closer. Pressed up against him, so warm, so sweet. She could feel his heart beating through his shirt. She blindly felt around for the breakfast bar and finally was able to sit her cup down. Her other hand was now free to wrap around his neck.

Don continued kissing her, his tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth. Lightly biting her lower lip, he felt her fingers slide from behind his neck and down his chest now. Still, unsure that this was really happening, he glided his palms down the sides of her body, eventually cupping her perfect little butt with both hands. There was nothing more that he wanted, than to rip off her clothes, wrap her legs around his waist and carry her to the nearest flat surface. He restrained himself - this was a whole new ball game now. If he was to do anything right in his life, he would wanted this to be it.

"Don" - he heard her whisper, as he generously covered her neck with broad wet kisses. - "Don't go, stay." Did he hear this right? she wants him to stay?

"Why?" - he whispered back.

"I need you. I want you to stay. Please." - Veronica leaned her forehead against his chest, trying to catch her breath. A school-girl's fantasy was coming true. She has been with men before, but this was different. Something that grew and perfected itself over the course of many years, and finally was starting to blossom. There was no way that she would let this go now. Her body ached for him - the all-familiar feeling of falling filled her belly.

With a groan, Don lifted her body, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Trying to find his way, without tripping over the coffee table was going to be hard. The sofa it is, he decided, and headed for it. He lowered her down, and allowed himself a few moments of admitting the gorgeous young woman before him. . Her face was flushed, lips swollen from kisses. Her hair, escaping her pony tail, silky golden strands falling across her face. She looked magnificent. He saw many faces of Veronica - grieving, broken, impish, loving, disappointed. But he could not hope in his wildest dreams that he will ever see the face of this young woman filled with desire for him. She smiled,and grabbing his shirt, pulled him closer. He lowered on top of her, resting one knee on the sofa and pressing his body to hers. Carefully and most gently, he brushed her hair away from her face and took possession of her lips again. They were pliable, willing, letting him inside her perfect little mouth. He accepted this surrender and plundered it with his tongue, only stopping to catch his breath. She arched her back, and wrapped her arms around his torso, as it trying to absorb him into her own body. He inhaled deeply - the scent of Shea butter and Vanilla was making him high. Or maybe it was the feel of her lips, generously showering his neck with kisses. Or the little noises she made, as his hands explored her body, trying to free the hem of the blue T-shirt from the waistline of her jeans. She moaned, feeling his hard cock press against her thigh. Her insides were aching, and the tension was more than she could bear. Her body was already responding his his fully, she could feel getting wet just at the mere touch of his length to her aching center.

He wanted her, badly. As if the years of pent-up and unrealized fantasies were rushing to escape the prison of their bodies. Part of Veronica couldn't help but triumph - he was hers. The Sheriff, the unapproachable and sarcastic Don Lamb seemed to be under her spell. Someone who laughed and picked at her, humored her every attempt to make peace, treated her unfairly on the number of occasions. The man, whose words and insinuations cut her deeper than she would ever let him know. Someone who went to great lengths to humiliate her when she was still in school - he was hers. Someone who made her cry alone in her car many times, as she suffered another blow to her already-broken heart. But the little girl grew up, and she had something that this man wanted beyond measure. He was, indeed, hers at this moment.

He was enthralled by her body, and she could destroy him with a single tiny word. She smiled, her eyes closed. She could destroy him and tell him "No", but there was no way that she would ever forgive herself. The heat of his large palm, sliding under her shirt, melted the last reservation inside. He gently glided his palm over the slight curve of her stomach, running along the sensitive area near the waistband.. One of the fingers gently dipped into her belly button, then his palm continued upwards. The pace was torturous slow , but it felt exquisite. Reaching her bra, his palm gently cupped her right breast, as his fingers brushed the top. The thin fabric offered no protection against this attack. A broken cry escaped her lips when his fingers traced her hard nipple. Don smiled down at her, looking flushed yet pleased with himself. He traced the tips of his fingers across her nipple again, watching with amusement as she writhed under wasn't sure if she was ready to let him be in control of the situation, but it did seem that he had the upper hand at that moment.

She reached her hand down and cupped his groin, running her fingers along the shaft. His uniform pants strained at the pressure within. He groaned, his voice hoarse and closed his eyes. Veronica smiled again, feeling more in control now. She reached to his pant's button, her deft little fingers attempting to undo the button that separated her from owning him completely.

"**_Dispatch control, to all available cars. Code 3. 245 in progress. Oceanside Marina loading docks, west of Palm. Multiple gunshots reported._** " - the police radio announced from the bathroom, the sound booming against the tile walls. . Don's body stiffened. He broke the kiss, looking at Veronica. She held her breath, hoping the next transmission would be "_Never-mind, everything is great, go on with your wonderful night, you crazy kids!"_

"_23 here. Copy. I'm on my way. About 15 minutes out. Over"_

"_34 copy. I'm coming from beat 11, heading south on Palm. Over" - _the radio came alive with voices of the officers on duty.

"Goddammit." - Don tore himself from Veronica's body and headed for the bathroom. He waited a few seconds, hoping his voice will steady enough, and then answered. - "_17 here. Copy. I'm on my way. Coming from downtown - will take Palm North."_

"_Multiple suspects, Hispanic Males. Seen near the south end of docks. Suspects armed - exercise extreme caution. Repeat South end of the loading docks, Oceanside Marina, West of Palm."_

Cursing under breath, he put on the belt and clipped the radio back on. Veronica was sitting on the sofa, looking lost and small. She looked up at him - he could see tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I have to go. Gotta justify my salary somehow." - Veronica nodded silently. Her heart clenched itself and sunk low. Every fiber of her being wanted to scream "_DON'T GO, not tonight, not right now. This is not right!"._

As he headed for the door, Veronica ran up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. He just stood, his back pressed against her body. He gently unclasped her hands from his waist.

"I'll be fine, Mars. You'll see, I'll come back to finish our job interview, you hear me?" - His voice sounded grave, and it gave her little assurance. When she was younger, there were times she said goodbye to dad, not knowing if she was going to see him again. The little girl, who believed her dad was part-superhero, also believed that if her dad promised something - there was no force on his planet that could make him break it. He was invincible from bullets and fire and knives, as long he made her a promise.

"Please come back to me. Please don't let anything happen to you. Promise me."

"I promise" - Don said, his voice hoarse. An empty promise of a cop, about to step out into the night filled with violence. A false hope - who knows if this night was to be his last? But for the sake of Veronica, he wanted to be the best cop he could be tonight, if nothing else - to survive and come back. And to be held just like this - fiercely and passionately, without any reservations.

* * *

Veronica put herself together, her hands still shaking. She watched Don open his trunk and pull out a bullet-proof vest. Clicking it close on him, he pulled out the shotgun and loaded it. He glanced up at her window, as if knowing she was watching him, and gave her a grin. He knew he looked good at the moment, in his vest, with a gun in his side and his Sheriff's start shining bright - a dashing all-American hero off to save the day! Veronica smiled back, pressing her palms to her chest and biting her lip.

Don's car lit up with red and blue, and letting out a winding wail of the siren - turned into traffic. The cars on both sides screeched to a halt. Veronica did not waste any time - she grabbed her car keys and ran down the small staircase. Her police radio scanner was in the glove compartment - she never left home without it. Her first instinct was to follow him, but the roads, no doubt will be packed with confused motorists, or worse - they would be blocked completely.

She turned the radio on, and ran back inside the apartment.


	8. Two Steps from Hell

"Dispatch here. Road blocks needed alongside of the docks perimeter. Ambulances dispatched, on standby. Waiting for clear."

"Unit 23 south side of the docks. Corner of Palm and Bayview. Its a hot zone. Requesting backup. Multiple suspects, gunfire exchanged."

"Need traffic roadblock, suspects attempting to flee. 2 suspects moving east."

Veronica clutched the radio, not realizing that she was holding her breath. Huddled on the couch, her legs folded to her chest. The silence of the apartment was broken only by the deceivingly calm transmissions. Don's voice broke through occasionally:

"Unit 17 here. Coming from North side of the docks. Have 2 more cars with me. Check location on suspects"

"Proceed down Palm Avenue, outside perimeter. Suspects sighted moving east toward the street."

"Copy that."

Veronica pressed her forehead to the radio, quiet prayers escaping her lips. Her heart dropped, every time the radio clicked. It sounded bad. Real bad.

Scant transmissions offered little idea on where Don was, whether he was al right. But every now and then his voice broke through the static, and it was comforting to know that he was still out there.

"17 here, two suspects entered vehicle, attempting to flee. Heaving North on Palm towards the Pacific Coast Highway. I'm in pursuit."

"43 here, I'm in pursuit of the suspects as well. Black SUV, Ford. "

"Roadblocks in place next 3 exits. Watch for 11-83, left lane, quarter mile from exit 15. Traffic heavy."

"Copy, suspects taking side roads."

* * *

Don crouched behind a car and counted to ten. His heart pounded against his rib cage, and he struggled to catch his breath - his lungs burned, after the mad sprint through several blocks of this neighborhood. His hands were shaking. He popped a fresh clip into his gun. He hoped that counting would calm him, but it didn't. He stopped at 8, mostly because he couldn't keep track of the numbers.

Two deafening pops from across the street, and the side windows of the car, that he was hiding behind - shattered. Tiny glass shards showered his head. The sirens announced the arrival of at least three more cruisers. Backup was finally here - they couldn't have gotten here fast enough. The police cars barreled their way down the tiny street of the residential subdivision, stopping a half a block away. The policemen took cover behind their cruisers' doors, guns drawn.

More gunfire erupted from both sides and bitter scent of gunpowder permeated the air. Don wanted nothing more than to simply disappear, melt into the side of the car that protected him for the past few minutes. Training or not, this was the first time he was in an all-out shoot out. Before this, he only had to shoot his gun once, and his hands were shaking for hours after that. This time, he got to do it all - a clumsy high-speed chase for about two miles (the gunmen, roadblocked by his deputies, jumped the curb and abandoning the stolen vehicle - took off on foot). He chased after them, pushing his body to the limit. At some point, he recalls blindly vaulting a fence and landing on his ankle at an awkward angle. He wasn't hurt badly, and was able to continue the pursuit. The two gunmen that they were chasing, tried to force their way into a house, but luckily, the doors withstood their kicks. With Don and the other officers right behind, the gunmen had no choice but to huddle behind a minivan, as horrified the car's owners peeked out from behind the blinds of their house.

Don knew that he was in better position than the others - all he needed to so was run forward about twenty feet, then attempt to come at the gunmen from the side. Problem was, his hiding spot - was the last car on his side of the street. The next one was almost thirty feet away and making that dash without a cover was suicidal. He gave up any hope that the gunmen would run out of ammo a while ago - the two assailants seemed to be made of bullets.

He never wanted to be a hero. Sure, as the police academy trainee he had some romantic notions about becoming a hot cop, whom all girls loved, who got to wear a shiny badge and carry a gun. He believed that one day he would chase and put away some hard criminals, get patted on the back by the Chief and possibly be rewarded. It was a rosy-colored vision of a stock footage police life that resembled nothing of the real life. That was a long time ago. Right now, he was completely terrified. His legs were nearly completely numb from crouching, and shifting his weight he cautiously peeked from behind the front bumper. There was no movement on the other side of the street. Problem was, one of them was carrying a sub-machine gun (Don guessed by the rapid fire). The bullets sprayed the barricade down the block. He could try going around when they are distracted by the shooting. It was a one-shot deal - he realized it. He didn't want to be the hero, but he also didn't want to die behind this car like a coward.

A shitty deal, Don thought. He informed the other units, that he needed some cover, as he readied for the sprint of his lifetime. As soon as the air around him erupted in the new wave of pops, he tore forward, running and crouching - as fast as his ankle would allow him. The sounds around him became muted, and he saw the faint flash of the muzzles in the darkness. One of them saw him and turned his gun at him. A burning sting tore through his thigh. Don's leg gave out, and he dropped to his knees. Dropping to the ground,he pointed his gun towards the minivan, the side of which was nearly destroyed by the bullets, and shot a few times. He saw one of them - the one who shot him - crumple like a broken doll. Don pressed his face to the ground, hoping the other one would not follow suit and shoot at him. The grass felt nice and cool against his burning skin. His leg started to throb, and waves of pain became more pronounced. He groaned, molding his body to the contours of someone's lawn.

The tempo of the reality around him suddenly picked up, and the sound of the chaos above was in full volume. He heard someone shouting: "Drop your weapon! Get on the ground now!"

He heard the suspect shouting back in Spanish. The shooting have stopped. He heard faintly as someone ran up to him, requesting for ambulance. "It's over" Don thought, closing his eyes. He was carefully turned over - someone's fingers touched his neck, then his wrist. He wanted to say "I'm not dead", but found no strength to peel his lips apart. He couldn't tell how long it passed, before he felt someone's strong arms lifted him off the ground - it felt both - disconcerting and comforting - to be this helpless. Don allowed himself to surrender to the blissful darkness, as the doors of the ambulance closed firmly behind him.

* * *

Veronica's head jerked - she was suddenly awake. Realization of this felt awful - did she miss something important? How could she possibly fall asleep at the time like this? She stretched out her legs. Her body felt stiff after spending a couple of hours in the same position. The radio chatter did not cease, but the transmissions were returning to the normal pace.

She clicked on the TV. Channel 7 News was a-buzz, recounting last night's excitement in Neptune. The report, delivered by the beautiful Martina Velasquez, stated that two rival gangs got into a shoot-out at the Marina. The Sheriff and local deputies arrived at the scene and exchanged fire, that resulted in deaths of two deputies. Veronica's heart dropped, when Martina informed that the Sheriff himself was wounded in the line of duty, but is reported to be in stable condition.

After hurriedly putting on a set of fresh clothes, Veronica ran out of the apartment. The drive to the Neptune General Hospital felt like it took a year. Mac called her, asking her if she was all right. Her best friend heard the news, and wanted to know if Veronica was somehow involved - why does it always have to be her? Can't some things in Neptune happen without a Mars being involved in it in some way?

Don was still in surgery - that was all that the ER front desk nurse decided to disclose. No one is to see him until the attending doctor decides that he should receive visitors. The wait was excruciating. Veronica sat, clutching her bag, and watched the news. A short footage played over and over, offering a glimpse into the last night's chase. It felt unreal - nothing like this ever happened in Neptune before. Gang wars? Shoot-outs? High-speed chases? But with the Sheriff's office bombing, the gangs have stepped up their activity in the area. More violence was spilling over from across the border, and it was starting to bleed further north, into Neptune.

Don's smiling face filled the screen, alongside with the two fallen deputies. They were hailed as heroes. Veronica bit her lip - if Don ever wanted to reconsider and run for another term - he would take it by storm. People's memories are short, and Neptune loved flashy and dashing. A heroic Sheriff, risking his life, wounded in the line of duty - they would eat it up. On the other hand, if this was an indication of how things are going, Veronica hoped that he sticks to his decision and backs out. She was hoping that her father would also stick to his decision and not try to run for the office himself. She couldn't even imagine waiting in the ER for her father. Suddenly, the devastation of it all hit her hard. She put her face in her hands and wept like she hadn't for a long time.

It was a couple of hours later, when the nurse finally called out:

"Miss Mars?"

"Yes?" - Veronica sat up, hoping not to hear an awful news.

"Sheriff Lamb's surgery went well, he was moved to the recovery."

"Can I see him?"

"You will have to ask at the recovery wing, 2nd floor."

Veronica was told that no visitors were allowed, as the Sheriff was still recovering from the anesthesia. At first, the nurse was hesitant to give out the information. Veronica said that she was his girlfriend. It felt strange on her lips. Just a year or so ago, a possibility of this hadn't even crossed her mind. The words tasted foreign in her mouth - they shared a sweet and passionate moment, a few heart-melted kisses, a possibility of something solid. But a girlfriend?

The nurse's disposition changed at Veronica's claim to Don, and she gave her the number to the Nurse's station. Having been told that she could possibly see him later today, Veronica felt elated. This was like a bad dream, but at the same time, it was filled with anticipation of something sweet.

She drove home, hoping to take a shower and down a few cups of coffee. The excitement and stress of last night, and not the waiting - started to catch up. She felt a buzzing headache coming on.


	9. I Run to You

Veronica slipped into the room, half-hoping that Don was still asleep. He looked pale, very pale – almost lifeless. At least three IV stands crowded around him on both sides – one of them was a red bag of blood. The nurse refused to disclose details on Don's condition to Veronica, even after the "My boyfriend will want her to tell his family what's up". However, the stern stickler to the policies did soften up, once Veronica's eyes welled up with tears. She had used crying as means of obtaining what she wanted, and however detestable she found it to be – it always worked. Sometimes a PI had to get their hands dirty, her dad said, even if that meant "turning on the sprinklers".

Still hesitant, the nurse did tell her that he tolerated the surgery pretty well, lost a lot of blood and was still weak from blood loss and the anesthesia. She said not to expect much "action", giving Veronica that "you crazy kids and your crazy libido" look. Veronica couldn't help but blush. She'd be lying, if she said that the thought of continuing "their job interview" hadn't crossed her mind. But first thing's first – Don had to stay alive, get better, and return to her as soon as possible.

Various wires and tubes were attached to the random parts of his body, stretching from the faintly-buzzing and beeping machines and under the blankets. She silently moved through the room, stepping closer to the bed. His chest rose and fell slightly – perhaps he was asleep after all. Strong smell of antiseptic tickled her nose, and after fighting it for a few moments – let out a silent sneeze. She saw a slight flash of blue between his half-closed eyelids.

"Hey, the nurse told me my girlfriend was itching to see me. Could you tell me when she is here?" – he said quietly, his words slurring a bit. Veronica's eyes narrowed, and she felt a hot wave of jealousy rise up in her throat. Then she noticed the slightest of smirks spread on his pallid lips. A long scratch decorated his cheek, accentuated by his pallor. She fought the urge to lean and kiss it. Suddenly, their "hot –n-heavy" get-together seemed to be a dream that she had. _What am I even doing here? Why is his family, friends not here? Does he not have anyone? _ The thoughts that that could be the case made her cringe internally. It very well maybe that he is alone, but then again what did she really know about Don anyway? Just some conjecture, based on random encounters. She had a vision of him being a certain way, of course. But whether that was the reality – there was no way of knowing.

"I'm afraid I have taken some liberties, Deputy. A "potential filing clerk" didn't sound too convincing to the nurse. You could do worse, you know." – she smiled softly. She almost reached out to take his hand, reconsidering at the last moment. This new familiarity between them felt foreign. – "How are you?"

"High as a kite, actually. And not in a good way." – he said, following her with his eyes, as she pulled a chair closer to his bed and nestled in. – "Just so you know, I might throw up at any time."

Veronica looked at him quizzically for a moment.

"Morphine." – he explained. She nodded – of course. No doubt he was in a great deal of pain.

"But you'll be alright?"

"The doctors think so. They were able to sew me up pretty well, but they said that the bullet shattered and made a mess with my muscles. They are kind of up in the air…"

"In the air about what?"

"Whether they can save my leg." – he sounded casual about it. Veronica's head, on the other hand, started spinning.

"What do you mean?! It's just a gunshot wound to the leg. How did it come to this?!" – she exclaimed, her face hot and heart pounding. With great effort, he turned his head and reached out to grab her hand.

"Whoa, whoa, Mars. Please don't make me move – it makes me want to hurl." – he looked apologetic, as if whatever happened was his fault directly. – "That's what I said too. The doctor gave me a speech, using a lot of scary long words I didn't understand. Bottom line is – it's not a definite. They have to wait an see. I have a choice in the matter, you know. They won't cut off my leg in the middle of the night, without me knowing it."

"Right, sorry. " – she said, enjoying the feel of his warm (although clammy) hand on top of hers. His index finger was shackled to the cardiac monitor. – "I guess all the cop dramas made me think that you can just "walk it off". John McClain usually ignores bullet wounds until the end of the movie."

"That's kind of what I thought too. Haven't gotten shot before." – his smile was weak, but it made her feel a few times better.

"They are calling you a hero. It's all over the news. "

"I know. Couple of deputies stopped by. Even the mayor gave me a call earlier today." – he didn't sound enthusiastic. _Understandable_, Veronica thought, _he is a hero, but two of his men are dead. No doubt after the media frenzy wears off, he will start drawing heat for that._ She wanted to ask him about his family, but something told her to stay out of it. Instead, she tried a different approach:

"Do you need anything?"

"Desperately." – his eyes suggestively glided over her body. Wasn't it typical – even on his deathbed a guy's mind only yearns for one thing. Not that she would deny him, but not while he was strapped to more devices than the Borg Queen. Veronica had Mac to thank for the vivid associations with Star Trek. Her friend subjected her to hours of re-runs over the past year. Veronica didn't care for it, but it made Mac happy, so she suffered through the technobabble and silicone foreheads of various shapes and sizes. – "Actually, yeah. I could use a toothbrush, some clothes. A real blanket – it's freezing here. My razors. Something to read." - stopping him, Veronica dug in her bag for a pen and paper.

"Ok, so some regular stuff, you know. Oh yeah, some snacks, like potato chips." – Veronica stared at him blankly. It was unlikely the nurses will let him keep any snacks in his room. Hospitals were notorious for making sure that sick people were as miserable as possible, by forcing them to eat the worst flavors of jello in existence, instead of stuff they liked. Don, as if reading her mind, grinned.

"I'll hide it from nurse Ratched."

"Where, under your pillow? You are not exactly in any shape to walk" – Don nodded. She was right on that.

"Will you hide it for me?"

"Are you serious? You want me to sneak food and hide it somewhere in your room and come here and feed it to you in secret?"

"Aren't you good at sneaking around?" – he asked, his face deadpan serious.

"Well, you are not wrong. I am good. Ok, I'll see what I can do." – she conceded, and finished writing his rather extensive list. Any more items, and she would have to get her large suitcase. Then again, he might be staying here for a while.

"You can get a key to my place from the office – I'll give em a call. "

"You got it."

She stayed for a bit longer, but it was evident that he was forcing himself to stay awake. She didn't miss the fact that he pressed his morphine pump at least twice, as they engaged in an idle and safe chat about nothing. Finally, she used a lull in their conversation to tell him that she was going to get his things. He nodded, his eyes closing. He was dead asleep in the few moments it took her to move her chair back.

* * *

The prospect of getting a glimpse into Don's "bachelor's pad" always intrigued her, ever since she was very young. Ever since the handsome new deputy strolled into her heart, many years ago, she was always curious about what hid behind those gorgeous baby blues of his. She found that on the outside, very few people matched their intimate space, herself included. People hide and wear masks – the natural state of paranoia and distrust unifies the human kind on the global scale. But their nests rarely lied – they were like the blueprint to the man or woman's heart and mind. Every item, every placement of that item offered a glimpse into what was important to them. Veronica always wanted to know – what was on Don's pedestal? Will she find a neat freak, a slob, a party animal? A pervert? A saint?

She unlocked the door, stepping through. It felt like she was at the entrance of some treasure cave, filled with untold wonders. She hummed Indiana Jones' theme, moving towards the windows and opened the blinds. Sunlight bounced off the scant furniture, dust spect dancing a tango in the air. The apartment was of a decent size - it was in a fairly pricey complex. It smelled musty, but nothing too terrible. Veronica sighed – now that her wish was granted, and the treasure trove was hers to explore – where to begin? _Right, the list. We'll snoop as we go along, I suppose._

The place was in a twilight state of cleanliness. Not really clean and not really dirty – Veronica decided that it was in an acceptable state for a single guy who had a rough year. It was obvious that Don neglected dusting and mopping, but a stack of clean laundry and pressed uniform shirts hanging in the closet, told her that he was still trying to keep some semblance of order in his life. She found a duffel bag in a closet in his bedroom and started filling it up with the requested items. Of course, it also allowed her to spread her snooping evenly across all of the closets and cabinets. Outside of the uniform, Don's wardrobe was rather spartan – a few plain T-shirts and a stack of blue jeans. A couple of suits – one gray and one black. He did have a generous selection of sport clothes, but most of the colors were white or gray.

The nightstand beside the bed held a predictable variety of reading material – Sports Illustrated, Guns & Ammo, People. She checked the top shelf in the closet – that's where people usually hid their most delicious secrets. She did find a thin stack of BustyBabez and some Maxims. Tucked in the corner she noticed a stack of books. They were Dungeons & Dragons manuals. A grin spread on Veronica's face. _Why, deputy, you are just a big old nerd, aren't you?_ The books looked to be thoroughly used. She noted a handgun tucked between a folded comforter and a shoe box. The shoe box, upon opening, revealed some letters and greeting cards. Veronica paused – suddenly she felt that she was digging into Don's life and heart and it felt wrong. She was no stranger to snooping, in fact, working for her dad – it was a skill that she perfected over the years. But with Don, however tempting it was to paw through every single one of them, it just felt dirty and verboten. Her deft fingers, as if having a mind of their own, carefully fished out one of the cards from the middle of the pile. A simple greeting card with a picture of a cat in a football helmet. She opened it.

" Happy 12th Birthday, my sweet boy! Love, Mom."

Veronica blinked, tears spilling out. She wiped the droplet that got onto the card, and carefully tucked it back into the pile. Closing the box, she shoved it back in it's resting place. Maybe one day he will share this with her, but at this moment this was just plain disrespectful. She had no business digging through it with such a callous curiosity.

There were no pictures on the walls, save for a couple of himself with a dark-haired, blue-eyed woman and two small kids. The woman's smile was very much like Don's - slightly crooked and inviting. She was beautiful. _A sister? I had no idea Don had a sister._

There was also a picture of Don with an older woman, who Veronica guessed was his mother - and that's about it.

The duffel bag was getting heavy and the requested blanked would not fit into it. She was going to have to carry it in her hand. She found no other luggage bags in the apartment. It dawned on her - he requested snacks. Veronica headed to the kitchen, to see what he had.

The small kitchen was in a worse shape than the rest of the place. The sink was overflowing with dishes and bowls. Empty beer bottles littered the counters. The fridge did not offer much hope either - a few slices of the American cheese, a half-eaten sandwich and more beer. Veronica sighed, setting down the bag. The least she can do, is to tidy up the place. She found a clean sponge under the sink, and started to wash the dishes. This gave her time to think, sort out the feelings and expectations. This was surreal - she was starting to believe the lie that she told "nurse Ratched" - Don's girlfriend. _Isn't that what girlfriends do? Visit you when you are sick, bring you snacks, wash your dishes and watch TV, cuddling on the couch?_

Through all of the snooping, Veronica found no indication that Don was involved with anyone. There were no loose articles of female clothing laying around, no love notes, no pictures of him in the arms of some babe. While her jealousy was relieved, it also made her feel sadder for him. He must have been so lonely, as no one should be. Her own dad, after the last unsuccessful relationship with a married woman was lonely too, and Veronica could feel it acutely. If she was going to be honest with herself, she wasn't sure if she was ready to be "a girlfriend" again. Her relationship with Logan was explosive, like a minefield of passion and disappointment. It wore her out. Dating Piz after that, however briefly, was safe and lovely, but that's all it was. Don was solid, but not necessarily safe. The last thing she wanted was to bring new drama into her life. But she didn't want "lovely". With Don - it was heart-pounding, lip-biting, "I want to rake my nails down his back and scream out his name" want and need. But over the years, they made sure to erect a wall between them. A wall made of poisonous remarks, betrayals, sarcasm. While just a couple of days ago, when he held her close - that wall seemed to have disappeared, in the light of today Veronica found herself to be pressed up against it.

There was no doubt in her mind, however, that she wants to stay at that wall, and wait for it to crumble. To be there, at his side, whatever happened. Crippled or not, she had him now, and he had her. She smiled, shutting off the water. The dishes sparkled in the light. Well then, lets get the "sweet boy" his snacks. She wanted to hurry back and see him, but his kitchen pantry was empty, which meant that she would have to stop on the way and get the "contraband" .

Carrying a puffy duffle bag on one arm, and a comforter under the other, she headed to her car.


	10. I'm Going Home

On the way back to the hospital, Veronica stopped at Gas & Snacks, and picked up a few candy bars. She picked at random, clueless as to what Don might actually like. Sadly, the gas station did not have bear claws. She also grabbed a few sticks of Slim Jims and a bag of toasted green beans. _Well, its sort of a healthy snack, right? _

Nurse Ratched, as Veronica now called the "gatekeeper" of the floor, disapprovingly looked over the duffel bag, as if smelling the snacks stashed inside, but allowed her into Don's room. Veronica was glad that the woman didn't actually frisk her.

Don was still asleep, and Veronica made every effort to move about the room soundlessly - putting the clothes into the tiny dresser in the corner (hiding the snacks among the clothes). She left his toothbrush, razor and toothpaste on the rolling table next to his bed - he'll be glad to have the comforts of the civil life. Once unpacking was finished, she grabbed one of the People magazines that she brought with her, and leaning back into the uncomfortable hospital chair - tried to occupy herself with some article about Paris Hilton. Her eyes scanned the pages, but her mind was focused solely on Don. His breathing was raspy and once in a while he let out a slight hollow moan - it made her cringe every time.

At some point she walked over and simply stared at him - he was so pale and exhausted. She gently traced the scratch on his cheek with her fingers, hoping not to wake him. He stirred a little, but didn't open his eyes.

One of the nurses came in, and checked his IV, replacing one of the bags. She also took Don's blood pressure, which woke him up. Veronica put away the magazine - he looked distraught.

"You would think they would let me rest" - he said, his voice low and drowsy. - "every damn hour, they come in, poke around, check my leg, stick needles into my arm. All I want is to get some sleep." He turned his head towards Veronica, as if he knew all along that she was quietly sitting beside him. She smiled, glad he was awake, but furious that he was being bothered constantly.

"No rest for the wicked." - she said quietly, coming closer.

"The only thing wicked about me right now is the urge and desire for something sweet. Did you bring the stuff?" - he looked around, with each turn of his head he looked sicker and sicker. The painkiller was obviously making him nauseated.

"I wasn't sure on what you liked, so I got a few different things." - she rummaged through the clothes, hoping nurse Ratched didn't decide to drop by for a social call. - "I got you an Almond Joy, a bag of Twizzlers (green apple), Skittles and a few donut holes."

"You are killing me, Mars." - he sighed. Veronica's face fell.

"Fine, give me the donut holes." - Don resigned. She brought the plastic cup and gave him one. He chewed it thoughtfully, and after a few minutes of silence finally said - "I guess I could do worse."

A few minutes later, the donut holes made their comeback, and Don was scrambling for his "bucket". Veronica's insides clenched, watching him wretch into the shallow plastic pan. Eventually, he ran out of the donuts, but was still heaving up whatever else in his stomach. It sounded painful, and he groaned with each spasm. Finally, he was able to lay down, clutching the pan. Veronica pried it out of his fingers, trying to be as nonchalant about as she could. _This must be humiliating, _she thought. _I know it would be for me._

"Totally worth it." - he said finally, mustering a grin. Veronica chuckled, thankful for that bit of humor.

"I don't think it's such a good idea to try anything else. "

"Right, mom." - he said, closing his eyes. The vision of the Birthday card from the shoe box flashed before Veronica's eyes. He was shivering and Veronica draped the comforter around him as gently as she could. No matter - the staff will come back to poke and prod him soon enough. Hospital policy - checking the patient every hour, or even half an hour (if they are in worse condition). Veronica wondered how many patients got worse after their surgeries, simply because the nurses wouldn't let them sleep.

They sat in silence for a while - she finished flipping the pages of the magazine, he stared thoughtfully across the room. The silence was broken by the sound of rhythmic buzzing.

"My cellphone - check my bucket, the other one, yeah, right there by the window. Don here" - he said, as Veronica handed him the phone. - "Oh, hey. I was wondering if they called you. Yeah, I'm in tact. Yeah. No, not yet."

Veronica's curiosity was at an all-time high. She did her best not to look like she was eavesdropping, but it was nearly impossible.

"Ok, yeah, don't worry about it. I'll have a friend do that, you can stay at my place. No, it's fine, trust me. Love you too, see you later." - he turned to Veronica as soon as the conversation was over. It was obvious that he was trying to look as charming as he could.

"You are about to ask me for a favor, Deputy, aren't you?" - she smiled.

"It's a small one."

"Doubt it"

"Ok, it's average-sized." - Veronica clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes at that. Don smirked a bit, looking pleased with himself. - "Seriously, my sister Darlene is coming from North Carolina. I know I've asked you to run my errands already, but I was hoping you could pick her up at the airport and bring her to my place."

"I'd love to," - Veronica meant it. If Darlene was anything like her brother (and she was hoping she was), she would be a delight to hang with. But most of all, Veronica was just thrilled to hear that someone other than her will come to be with him. As much as she wanted her Deputy all to herself, it broke her heart to see his room so empty. No one should be alone and forgotten at a time like this. His deputies and the mayor and whoever else can make social calls all they want, but he needed people that truly cared about him.

Don gave her the flight information - Darlene called from the plane. Veronica had about an hour before she landed. Before stepping out of the room, she heard Don call out:

"Hey, Mars. Don't take it the wrong way, but tell her to come see me tomorrow? I can really use some rest and a shave. Don't want her to think this is worse than it is, right?" - he looked so vulnerable and broken. She smiled.

"Think nothing of it, I'll make sure she is taken care of."

"You are the best filing clerk a man could hope for." - he said with a contented sigh.

"I never said yes to the offer." - she said.

"Sure you have."

_You are not wrong about that, Deputy_, she thought, while making her way back down to the parking garage. _Not sure how or when, but you sure do have a yes from me. In every possible way._ A wave of tenderness washed over her, making her throat tight. Happy tears stung her eyes - she realized it with a sharp drop of her heart: she was in love with this man. Completely and without any reservation. She wanted to be with him, and not just as a filler or another tempestuous relationship full of belly flutters and mind-blowing sex. She wanted to plant herself in him, take roots in his life, cling to everything about him. She wanted him from start to finish, like she had never wanted anyone else before. Suddenly, having him was just not enough - she wanted to be HIS.

* * *

On the way to the airport her dad called and informed her that he was coming back tonight. He asked about Don - the news of the Neptune shoot-out was on the national TV. Sheriff Lamb becoming a national treasure - something that Keith never thought he was going to see in his lifetime. I guess stranger things happened, he said. Veronica did not respond with a wise-ass remark. Sure, dad had no idea that he was making a callous remark about someone she loved, but didn't want to have this talk over the phone. She told her dad she loved him and couldn't wait for him to come home. And that was the truth.

Veronica held up a sign with "Darlene Williams", that she fashioned out of a manila folder and her liquid eye shadow brush. She peered through the crowd of travellers who were rushing off the escalator, hoping to spot a familiar face. Having seen her only in the few pictures that Don had in his apartment, she was hoping that it would be enough. And it was - it took one glance of the bright blue eyes in the crowd for Veronica to recognize her. The woman was as tall and slim as Don, her dark hair framing soft features. She was a bit older than Don, which was evident by the slight crinkles near her eyes when she smiled. Veronica guessed that she was in her later 30s. She waved to the woman with a sincere enthusiasm.

Without any reservation, the women embraced each other, as if they were old friends, meeting after a long time apart. Veronica decided at an instant, that Darlene was just mind-blowingly awesome and that she liked everything about her. After picking up the luggage, the two headed to the parking lot, Darlene chatting nervously about her flight, and about how this was her first time on the West coast. Veronica couldn't help but grin from ear to ear - this was wonderful.

* * *

Don stared out of the window, grinding his teeth. He stopped pumping the morphine into his system a couple of hours ago - all it did was make him want to vomit his insides out. The donuts were a bad idea indeed - he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over his face. That's what every man wants, right? Having the sexiest woman on the planet watch him dry heave into a plastic bucket.

The pain was bad, in fact his leg felt on fire, but he resolved himself to bear that, than the wave of nausea that came over him every time he moved his head.

He remembered the night that he got shot, hoping to recall the sweet feel of Veronica's body against his. Instead, his mind kept on replaying the memories of the shooting, the chaos, the fear. That night, he regained consciousness at the hospital, as they were cutting away his clothes. It might have been the feel of the cold air and the instruments against his skin that brought him out of the blissful darkness. Splayed half-nude on the table, people around him, methodically moving and turning him, things sticking out from almost every orifice. Before he could scream in pain, someone put a plastic cup-like contraption on his face and the reality grew wonderfully blank again.

The next time he awoke, he found himself on a stretcher in the hallway, shivering uncontrollably. He never knew that he could be this cold. His body practically went into convulsions, and he begged for a blanket. His face itched, and eventually the itching spread over his neck and chest. It was unbearable - he clawed at his skin, not caring whether he had anything left. He just wanted it to stop. Then the nausea came - the endless series of spasms, racking his body. Someone's gentle hands wiped his forehead. "It's all right, you will be al right, sweetie. Your body just trying to rid of the anesthesia, it's normal." - he heard a woman's voice. He clung to it like a child to his mother's hand, helpless to stop the vomiting, the shivering and the itching. After what felt like an eternity, his body finally started to pull itself together. At that time, Don's thoughts were too occupied by this unexplainable and all-encompassing assault on his body to be embarrassed. The nurse (as he realized later) was sweet and gentle. She stayed with him until the worst of it passed. After bundling him in a few blankets, she gave him a pill that stopped the nausea. The next few hours were a blur. He recalls being awoken every five minutes, or at least that's what it felt never felt so tired or lonely in his wanted Darlene to be there, his mom. Everytime the apologetic nurse checked him over, including prodding his leg for bleeding, he grinded his teeth with anger and helplessness. He wanted his mom and it struck him as odd. He taught himself to do without his mom a long time ago. And not just his mom, but without anyone else, really. But that night, the bullet stripped him of his title and dignity, forcing him to revert to the hurt little boy that Don thought he left behind, crying for his mom. That was possibly the second worst night of his life, and he never wanted to re-live it ever again.

But the sun came up, and he felt marginally better. Then SHE came, bursting back into his life like a proverbial ray of sunshine. Even in the cloud of the hospital stench - he could smell her sweet Vanilla scent. _Ronnie_. Suddenly, she was there and the terror of hours past didn't matter so much - just a distant memory of something dark. He could tell she was crying and it touched him. He saw her cry before, a few times probably because of him, but never FOR him. She was there, and while his body refused to cooperate with him, everything became that much simpler and easier to bear. The slightest detail became meaningful and word she said rang bells in his head. It was hard not to give into anger, but he pushed it as deep down as possible, and instead drank the vision of her in. The anger will have to wait. The hatred for that bullet that tore through his flesh, for the son of a bitch who fired at him, and all of the sons of bitches that made him leave his sweet, sweet Ronnie alone that night - they will burn in Hell. Later. But for now, all he wanted to do is smell her scent around him, listen to her bubbly voice, and hold on to the fact that Veronica, HIS Veronica was there.

* * *

"Well, we're here!" - Veronica let Darlene into the apartment. The woman looked around with curiosity. It was obvious that she had never visited him before. Veronica thanked all the deities in the world that made her clean-up Don's kitchen earlier that day. She didn't want Darlene to know about his drinking, at least not right away. This is not how she should find out, she decided.

On the way to Don's place they had a good chance to get to know one another. Darlene was open and generous - she shared everything about herself without any reservation. It was unusual - growing up in California Veronica was used to first, meeting the "character" that people played. It was only much later that she finally could learn about the person behind that character. That's the way it always was, and she expected everyone else to be the same. Everyone pretending to be happier, prettier, better-adjusted than everyone else. Even Mac, whom she considered to be the most open and genuine person she knew, now looked like Fort Knox compared to Darlene. It was refreshing and disarming. Don's sister was smart, well-spoken, soft and incredibly funny. Veronica learned that she was five years his senior, and that she had two kids - a boy and a girl. She worked at a local physician's office, and loved cats. Eventually it was Veronica's turn to answer Darlene's question. The woman must have had years of experience with talking with people from all walks of life and get them to reveal what she wanted them to reveal. Even with years training to conceal information, Veronica couldn't help but to want to tell her things about herself. Darlene's tactful but frank questions felt assuring. She was definitely someone that people must have adored to have around.

Darlene hinted to Veronica that "she had no idea her little brother was involved with anyone". Veronica knew that Don specifically called her a "friend", when talking to his sister. She didn't want to correct her - the thought of "being involved" with Don was making her heart swell. But nonetheless, she danced around that statement with a grace worthy of the Mars name.

Just as Don requested earlier, Veronica asked Darlene to come by the hospital the next morning - she told her that he was simply too tired. and that was completely true. The two women spent a couple of hours chatting, Veronica relishing in the sweet stories about Don's childhood. When she asked about their parents, Darlene skipped a beat._So that's where the nail is, right under all those pillows_, - Veronica thought. Darlene's pause and slight frown did not escape her trained eye.

The other woman was fairly brief on the subject of their parents: Their mother died when Don was a teenager. They did not keep in touch with their father, on account of his drinking and the nonexistent relationship. Darlene's stormy eyes told her there was more to this, but Veronica didn't pry further. She quickly changed the subject, and the rest of the afternoon they spent discussing light and pleasant topics.

It was getting dark by the time Veronica finally was on her way home. Her body felt a hundred pounds heavier. She was craving to feel the hot shower pelting her skin. Propping her feet up would be beyond amazing, and perhaps even having a beer…

Her apartment greeted her with a scent of fried meat and garlic - it smelled heavenly. Her father, with his cheeks bright pink from the heat of the oven, mitts on both arms, apron on his torso greeted her with a bright smile. Before he had a chance to say anything, Veronica rushed towards him. He gathered her into his arms.

"Oh honey, missed you bushels." - he kissed her cheeks and forehead.

"And I - you." - She said, nestling her face into his chest. She was felt like a lifetime, since she saw him last. Something had changed in her life forever since they parted outside of this apartment a few days ago. But it will have to wait for later - for now, her stomach growled at her, anticipating a lovely Mars dinner.


	11. Cold

**Characters**: Lamb, Veronica, Keith, Darlene (OC).

**Sorry for any mistakes.** **Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

* * *

_It will be fine,_ Veronica thought, biting her lip. _You'll be done with this in no time at all. Darlene will keep him company._ The drive to Balboa County Storage facility was tedious. For the first time in a while, she wanted to simply pass the case on to her father, but even that was no longer an option. Not since he decided to step up to the plate, like the last Boy Scout he is, and take the office of active Sheriff.

Veronica's eyes scanned the horizon - only a half an hour or so left until she gets to the storage place. Her mind was back at the hospital with Don. Now that Darlene was there for him, she felt that she could wrap up her obligations to Janine. No more cases after that, not until Don gets back on his feet. She was considering putting her college year on hold, so that she could stay with him, come September. It's possible that he was going to need lengthy physical therapy after he gets out of the hospital. This decision inevitably led to an awkward conversation with her dad last night.

"_Honey, think, I realize that you feel strongly about this, although I'm not sure where this all came from, but I was hoping that you have a little bit more sense when it came to your education." - Veronica could tell by his strained voice that Keith was holding back, trying his best to sound calm and reasonable._

"_I realize that, dad. But this is important to me. This is not some crush. I truly think this is something important, something fundamentally serious." _

"_With Don Lamb?" - he emphasized his name, as if the thought of Veronica caring so much about Lamb was a fact that he could not accept. - "What has happened? Where did this come from?"_

"_Dad, I...care about him, that's all. He is not the asshole I thought him to be."_

"_Are you sure about this? I just don't want this to be another…"_

"_What? Logan situation?" - Veronica's cheeks flushed at the thought. Her dad was supportive enough when they dated, but it was no secret that he could not stand the "Echolls kid". Who could blame him - Veronica cried plenty when she dated Logan. She was thankful that he had no idea how many tears were shed as a direct result of Don's actions over the years. - "Dad, I appreciate you being the...father hen. I am not quitting college - I am merely delaying it until Don gets better. His sister can't stay here forever, and he doesn't have anyone else."_

"_Sweetheart, while I appreciate your kind heart to the very bottom of mine, I just don't understand when Lamb became your project."_

"_He is not my project. I love him."_

_Keith sunk back into his chair, speechless. That's what he was afraid of. He chose his words carefully:_

"_Does he feel the same?"_

"_We have not talked about it, I don't know. We just..clicked, you know? Underneath all that attitude that he brings with him out to the public, he is actually a really good guy."_

"_I see. Well, I've always said - I trust you, sweetheart. I'm not happy about this, and should you want to hear my opinion on this again - I'll tell you straight up - don't stop college for anyone. Not even me. But…"_

"_I know, dad. I appreciate you. Please let me do this?" - Keith couldn't resist that flash of blue, directed at his very heart and soul. Little girls will fall in love - that's just a fact that fathers must accept, however unhappy that made him feel. It wasn't even the fact that Lamb was never going to be good enough for Veronica. _

_Of, he liked the kid back in the day - hell, he hired him straight out of the academy. Young Don had potential, sharp mind, zeal for the job. He was always a bit full of himself, but Keith let it slide - let the handsome young man have his fun, as long as he did the job right. _

_Back in the day, he urged Don to not take the Sheriff's job, but Don's vanity wouldn't let the kid to pass up that Don the kid got his shiny new toy, and Neptune got the Sheriff they deserved. Keith hated to dwell on things that he couldn't change, so he quickly brushed the memories of the past few years aside. _

_Regardless of Don's actions in the past, it did seem that he had proven himself to be a decent cop. Hell, he was a hero. And with Veronica, losing her mind over this, the worst thing he could do is to try to stand in between. He just hoped that she would gather her senses before it was too late._

* * *

It was dark, by the time Veronica got back into Neptune. The trip to the storage was fruitless - after hours of digging through stacks of paper and boxes with folders - she found nothing on the Miller kid case. If there was a record of him getting pulled over - it didn't look like it made it. After hanging up with Janine, she called Darlene at the hospital to see if it was too late to see Don. It was, but Darlene gave her a full account of his status.

Don was getting better in some ways, but worse in others. It's been four days since the shooting. The doctor switched him to a different pain medicine, so he was much more coherent than before. He was also able to eat solid food and keep it,, which was a huge plus. Unfortunately, he developed a fever two days ago, and even with the constant flow of antibiotics into his system - it wasn't going down. Darlene found out that the hospital ran a drug and alcohol use test on Don. Once she was approached by the doctor for the possibility of providing him with substance abuse counseling - his situation became all too clear.

Veronica felt like a traitor, when Darlene asked her if she knew about her brother's drinking problem. She did and she didn't. She also didn't really want to tell Darlene, that for the past few years, her and Don would not stop to take a piss, if either of them was on fire. That they have not exchanged a kind word to one another for years. That she was not in the position to question Don, or even cared about his problems, until a few days ago. It was heartbreaking to see Darlene's face, when she was told that Don's body is just not healing very well due to the heavy drinking. The infection from the wound was spreading downward, and the doctor was very frank about the possibility of another surgery.

* * *

The next morning, Veronica made her daily visit to the hospital. It didn't take but a few seconds for Veronica to guess that the brother and sister had a fight. Darlene's eyes were puffy and woman greeted her, and immediately excuse herself out of the room. Don avoided to look at Veronica, it was obvious that he was fuming. He nodded to her curtly.

"Good morning, Deputy" - she said cheerfully, hoping to avoid getting between the two of them. She knew better than get between fighting spouses or siblings. Don didn't answer and Veronica could see that he was clenching his teeth. The room was far too small for him to continue avoiding looking at her, and eventually the situation became comical.

_Well, this is starting to be a stinker of a day_. She came closer to Don's bed and waited until he had no choice but to face her.

"Hey, Deputy, I was beginning to think you weren't glad to see me." - she smiled.

"Sorry." - he shrugged, still looking angry.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really." - he rubbed his few days-old stubble. Darlene mentioned that he refused to be helped to shave, as he did with almost everything else. The nurses had to nearly force him to be bathed. Veronica could understand - how much more humiliation can a person take?

"Hey, now, Deputy, I thought we were starting to talk about things. We can either spend the next couple of hours awkwardly staring at the daytime TV programming and avoiding each other, or we can talk it out." - Don sighed, looking annoyed. But Veronica could tell that she was breaking through the wall of frustration that surrounded him. - "You will be rewarded." - she added.

"Yeah? Are there are samples?" - he sounded intrigued.

Veronica stood up and leaned over him, hovering her face close to his. He flinched a bit, but she placed her fingers on his cheek - it felt scratchy. A wave of tenderness flowed over her. She could feel the heat coming off of his skin - his fever didn't drop. His skin smelled of whatever hospital-sanctioned cleanser they used on him. It was a strange feeling - this man was so helpless on this hospital bed, yet he had so much power over her. She looked into his stormy eyes, hoping to peer through the wall that he was building back up. For a few moments, Don looked like he was actually going to push her away, so before he got a chance to do that, Veronica leaned in and kisses his lips.

It took only a few moments for Don's body to relax, and Veronica could feel his lips softening under hers. He reached his arm up and pulled her head closer to his, his fingers caressing the delicate skin of her neck. His stubble scratched her lips, but she loved the fact that with each kiss that she gave him, he was pressing her closer to him. It was unfortunate, that his IV tubes were shackling his arms to the bed, because she was craving to feel his hands on her body, even if just for a few minutes. The reality of the hospital stay was stark and anything but romantic. It was pain, humiliation, and embarrassment. Veronica broke the kiss and looked at his face. He held on to her hand for a bit, but then gently pushed her face away from him.

"Let's not start something we can't finish." - his voice sounded broken.

"Hey, look at me." - she said. - "Tell me, what's happening. Why are you and Darlene fighting?"

"We are not."

Veronica inclined her head, looking at him intently. Finally, Don gave up.

"She was berating me for my drinking."

"And by "berating" do you mean…"

"She wanted to talk about it and I didn't."

"Would you want to talk to me about it?" - Veronica said, but Don's eyes turned steely and cold. It took just a glance for her to feel being emotionally thrown across the room.

"I don't want to talk about it. Not to you, not to Darlene. Is that clear?"

It was no wonder Darlene stormed out of the room.

"I'm sorry that just doesn't work for me. I really don't like having things unsaid. I really feel that we should have a good chat about this."

"We?" - Don smirked. - "Just when did _this _become a _we_?"

Veronica flinched.

"Don't get me wrong, I am glad you come over, but I don't remember enlisting you in the ranks of my confidants. Did you elect yourself to be my councilor?" - his words felt poisonous, and wrong. Veronica bit her lip - when did they come around a full circle and landed in the land of "couple of years ago"? She could tell Don was getting angrier, but she just kept telling herself that the pain and fear was making him hostile. This is not _her _Don.

"I didn't elect myself, I thought you wanted me to care." - she said quietly. Don didn't say anything, and looked away. Uneasy silence surrounded them. Veronica waited for him to say anything, as if waiting for him to decide their relationship (or whatever she figured this was).

"Look, you can't just fix me. I'm not your case and I'm not your pet project." - he sounded less sure now. - "The mighty Mars can't just swoop in and make it all better."

"I never thought of you as my project" - she felt defensive.

"Then what am I? Sad? Pitiful? Another one of your boy toys?"

Veronica flinched again, feeling as if she was hit. Don's eyes were fixed on her, as if he was waiting for her to retaliate, to answer his challenge. She fought the temptation to open that little mouth of hers and dump a whole world of hurt in response. But the taste of his lips, that still tingled on her lips deflated her anger. Her head was spinning, and for the first time in a long time she just felt lost. _Why was he doing this?_ Has the past few days meant nothing at all? She wanted to tell him that he was far more than she ever cared for him to be. That she loved him, was scared witless for him. That she DID want to fix him, but not out of stubbornness - she wanted him whole and hers.

But looking at his steely stare, slight smirk, clenched fists - now she was simply scared. She wanted to run and hide. Maybe he is right: they made a mistake, their connection was nothing but a fluke. He wanted a few sweet moments with a pretty girl, and she wanted to play out her high-school fantasy. Fighting back tears, she gathered her bag, still hoping he will stop her.

"Look, I appreciate you being there. You and Darlene have been great…" - his voice softened a bit, but his stare was still impenetrable. - "But I'll be fine. I don't enjoy my actions scrutinized, especially by some girl who seems to enjoy acting out some adolescent fantasies."

"Some girl? Is that all that's happening here? Some girl?" - Veronica's face felt flushed, and she just wanted to storm out of the room like Darlene did, slamming the door in the process. Too bad hospital room doors couldn't be slammed. Worst of all, he didn't look took a few steps towards the door, stopping herself, hoping that he will snap out of this.

"You know, I hate you doing this. I know it's been rough, but we are here for you. You don't have to do this alone." - she said, looking at him from across the room. He sneered.

"Well, welcome to the wild world of Don Lamb, Mars! Sorry to disappoint you, but there is more to life than solving all your problems in a half an hour and hugging it out in the end. I know you want a charity case to solve…"

"That's not what I want!"

He paused.

"Then what do you want, Mars?" - his words hung in the stillness of the room.

_You_, Veronica thought feverishly. Instead, her mouth formed different words:

"I want you to get better. I want you to be able to talk to us about this."

Don stared at her for a few moments. Disappointment crossed his features, and he turned away, suddenly quiet:

"Please, just go, Ok?"

Veronica slipped out of the room, unable to contain the tears that were spilling onto her face. She felt someone's arm wrap around her shoulders - it was Darlene. The woman rubbed her shoulders, whispering:

"So sorry, honey, he's been impossible since last night. We got into a shouting match. He must be scared somethin' awful."

Veronica sniffed, but felt comforted by her words. She hated the fact that lately she was falling apart at every little thing. So, he was mean, so what? Is she going to pack up her feelings and run away like a child?

"Come, lets go have a coffee together, let my little brother stew over this for a bit. I need to talk to you anyway."

They got some coffee and found a table in the hospital's cafeteria. Darlene told her that after the blood tests came back, the doctor started pushing for having a councilor to come visit him. Don refused, saying that he didn't have a problem, he was just having some hard times. The doctor told him that his leg wasn't showing much improvement, and he freaked.

"So, the infection isn't getting any better?"

"Not by much. It's not getting worse, but not any better either. He's just scared they going to tell him the leg will have to go."

"Don't blame him, that'd be awful."

"Very awful. He's always been all independence, and he figures without a leg - there goes his career and hope for any normal life."

Veronica nodded. She couldn't imagine someone having to consider losing a limb. Perhaps she failed to empathize with his situation completely, expecting it to be all smiles and hands holding.

"Is that a real possibility?" - Veronica asked.

"The doctor didn't say that, no. But he did say to me, when we were out of Don's earshot, that he doesn't want him to have any illusion that everything is peachy either. If it comes down to choosing between saving his leg and his life - well you know how the doctors are sticklers for making sure the patient lives."

"Do you mean they will do it against his wishes?"

"I'm afraid that they won't have any choice. If the infection spreads, and he is unconscious, that decision will fall to me." - Darlene's eyes swelled with tears. Veronica's heart dropped - how can someone be expected to make an awful decision like that? She didn't have to be told which Darlene will choose. - "But as for you and him, if he's being ornery - nevermind him. He's always been like that. Whenever he's scared or troubled - he takes it out on everyone around him. I normally don't let him push me around, and he knows it too, but I guess I'm just gettin' soft lately. God knows sick people are a pain in the ass to deal with. And the sicker they are, the meaner they get sometimes. So don't you let him give you the lip, I can see that he loves you to bits, you know?"

Veronica felt a warm buzzing feeling in the back of her head and couldn't help but smile.

"I don't let it, I really don't."

"The heck you don't, Ronnie. No pretty girl like you should be crying over my boneheaded brother like that. I tell you a secret - when he gets like that, let him stew in his own anger for a bit, and then just tell him to stop jerking you around. You'll see, minutes after saying somethin' awful he'll feel bad."

"I'll take your word for it. Darlene, me and him...we..I have to tell you something." - Veronica bit her lip. - "I'm not really his girlfriend."

"You could have fooled me, honey. The way he looks at you, does he know this?"

"Don't get me wrong, I want to be..his girlfriend" - there is was, the foreign feeling of these words - "But we really haven't discussed this or anything like that. We just kind of, made out the night he got shot."

Veronica felt downright stupid. It sounded ridiculous. She felt like a 14-year old, blushing and bumbling, telling about her crush. But Darlene just smiled:

"Ya'll will figure it out, I'm sure."

Listening to Darlene, the true Steel Magnolia, felt comforting. Her soft southern drawl calmed her nerves, undoing the damage done by Don's harsh words before. She knows him better than anyone. Perhaps that's all he needs - some space, some time to process all of this. He never did ask her to be his girlfriend, and neither did she indicate that she wanted to have a relationship with him. And right now is really not the best time to be discussing long-term relationship plans anyway. Not until he gets better at least.

"Darlene, let me take you to Don's for a bit. You look tired."

"I think that's a good idea, honey. I can use a shower."

Veronica dropped her off at Don's apartment, and decided to surprise her dad with some fresh donuts. Ever since he took the office, albeit temporary (as he claimed), she hadn't had the chance to come and visit the station. She figured, that the sight of her dad in his uniform should bring some semblance of normalcy into this crazy day.


	12. Need you now

The phone rang, jerking Veronica out of a dream. Disoriented, she groped the top of the nightstand for it - the screen glowed with 2:36 am. Darlene's name was attached to the call, and suddenly Veronica was very awake and very anxious. No good news comes after midnight.

"Darlene? What's wrong?"

"Oh, Veronica, this is it, honey. They are prepping him for surgery now. I didn't want to call you earlier, while they were still doing the tests, but they confirmed - he has a large clot in his leg. They will have to cut him open again" - Darlene's voice was shaking.

"I am on my way. I'll be right there. Can I bring anything?"

"No, honey, just yourself."

Veronica scrambled out of the bed, looking for her jeans. She heard a knock on the door - Keith's sleepy face peeked in:

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"It's Don, his sister just told me that they are prepping him for surgery. He has a clot in his leg. Sounds real bad, dad."

"Do you need me to come with you?" - Keith asked, his face filled with concern.

"No, I don't know. I think we can make it…" - Veronica hurriedly brushed her hair, tying it up in a simple pony tail. - "I would love a coffee though."

"Whatever my girl wants - she gets, no matter if its day or night." - he said, offering her a smile. Veronica returned a grateful one to him. She needed to calm her nerves, steady her hands, and focus. The sour taste of panic rose up in her throat. She detested it - panic made her want to run and hide, and this is the last thing that is anyone needs right now. Keith made her a bitter cup - with double the caffeine. It tasted terrible, but Veronica felt more together, as the hot liquid poured down her throat.

"Sorry, Dad, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No problem, sweetheart. Be safe, alright?" - He lovingly gazed on his daughter's sleepy face. _She must really love that kid. He is lucky to have her on his side, _he thought. Keith was not a praying man, but if anyone had the persistence and the tenacity to pry miracles from God's hands - it would be his little girl.

* * *

"Darlene, tell me what's happening."

The waiting room, adjacent to the surgical ward, was small and uninviting. The chairs - poorly-cushioned and did not appeared to be designed with a human body in mind. The pale halogen lights made Darlene's face look much older. Dark circles settled under her eyes, and it was evident that she didn't get much rest earlier.

"Last evening, he was starting to get severe pain in his leg, not just how it was, but real bad. Then it started to go numb and swell up. They ran an ultrasound and said it was a clot. They got him on some blood thinners, but it's not taking well - the doctor said the antibiotics are not helping there. He said the clot is big enough, that they will need to flush it out."

"What's the prognosis?"

"As always - we will do our best, but any surgery carries risks, and so on.."

"And his leg?" - Veronica held her breath. It was ultimately up to Darlene, to make the decision on whether to save the leg or save him, if things cannot be helped.

Darlene burst into tears. Veronica wrapped her arms around her shoulders, feeling out of place. She is the one who's been falling apart lately, not the Steel Magnolia.

"Oh, honey, I feel awful. I told them, do whatever you can, but you make sure my brother is wheeled out of there with both legs still attached. I know he won't ever forgive me, if I say otherwise. How selfish is that?"

"How is that selfish?" - a wave of relief washed over Veronica. - "No one should have to make that choice, ever."

"I just don't know. I'm more scared of my baby brother being mad at me, rather than savin' his life. What if he don't make it on account of that leg of his?"

"Listen, you know Don better than anyone, and you know what a mess he would be, if it came down to this, right? Darlene, look at me" - She shook the woman lightly, internally praying that some miracle combination of words would restore her confidence - "None of us are ready to deal with this. Don't you ever blame yourself, no matter what happens. I know that Don knows that you have his back. You got a short straw, when it comes to decisions tonight, and you honored your brother's wishes."

Darlene nodded, wiping her face.

"Sorry, hun, I'm such a mess. I'm usually never like this, you know. You think you're ready for something like this, but it sneaks up on ya, don't it?Been in plenty of hospitals myself, brought up two kids, but here I am. Babbling like a fool."

"Not a fool. Family." - She wrapped her arm over Darlene's shoulders, rocking them both gently.

The two women held each other, in silence. The minutes turned into half-hours, and half-hours turned into hours. They took turns to get coffee, and after the coffee stopped working - dozing off for a few minutes at a time.

Sometime later, one of the nurses came out and called for Darlene.

"Sorry, we will need you to come with us."

"What is it?" - she rose from her chair, her face paling.

"We will need to start on blood transfusion. Mr. Lamb is losing too much blood, and while it's not critical yet, we would like to get the procedure started. We will need to run some tests before, and it takes a while."

Darlene brought her hand to her mouth. The nurse, as if finally realizing that she was scaring the poor woman to death, softened her tone:

"He is doing fine for now, this is just a precaution. This type of surgery always carried a big risk of blood loss. But there is nothing to worry about just now. Do you have any objections to blood transfusion?"

"No, no, of course not. I'm ready right now. Veronica, would you keep an eye on my things?"

Veronica nodded, hugging Darlene's bag close to her. The nurse ushered the woman behind the swinging door, and just like that, Veronica was alone. She looked around - the small TV in the corner was off. She looked around for a remote - maybe it will help her stay awake. It was surprising how tempting it was to just curl up on the floor and sleep. Shouldn't she be stark awake from worry? Her heart yearned for Don, but her body seemed to want nothing more than a warm blanket and a soft pillow.

She curled up in one of the chairs, trying to get as comfortable as it allowed her, and stared at the infomercial on the TV. A few moments later, without realizing, she was fast asleep.

* * *

Don opened his eyes, feeling an incredible weight pressing on top of him. He tried to move his arms - they felt like someone tied led weights to them. He was freezing cold, but didn't shiver. _Odd_. He called out, confused, but a hollow raspy sound came out. _What on earth was happening? _Wracking his brain for any information, he hazily recalled the commotion before, the nurses scrambling around, being wheeled down hallways, bright lights blinding him. He struggled to look around - he was in a different room. Quiet beeping and whirring surrounded him - he saw a tube of red reaching from his left arm and to an IV bag. 2-3 other tubes were stretching from his other arm. He groaned - another surgery. A sudden fear paralyzed him - he was afraid to move now. Is he one leg shorter now? _Did they? They wouldn't, would they?_

He blinked tears in the darkness - it was the first time he cried in years. Helpless, again. Alone. Where is Darlene? He remembered their fight a few hours earlier, or was it days? Then the memory of Veronica's hurt face flooded him. He half-recalled being awful to her as well. _Well, that's that then. No wonder I am alone. Suits me right, if I can't keep my big trap shut. Great going, Don. Hope you have fun with the rest of your life, hopping around on one leg like a fuckin' pirate. _He felt around for a call button, and eventually managed to find it among the blankets and the wires. The nurse showed up in a few minutes - a new one. He was hoping to see Nurse Ratched, despite her being mean and mannish, he was starting to get used to her. He must be on a different floor, or even in a different hospital.

"Mr. Lamb, you are in the recovery. We had to do an emergency thrombectomy." - she said, checking his IV tubes. - "Open your mouth, please, I need to take your temperature."

He obliged. She stuck a plastic stick in his mouth.

"Good, now lets check your leg. You shouldn't be in too much pain yet, your anesthesia won't wear out for a bit. And once that happens, we'll have you nice and numb in no time. And don't worry, no morphine. Your doctor noted here that you were having a bad reaction to it."

"What's a thrombectomy?"

"You had a clot in your leg, in your vein. We had to remove it. The doctor put a filter in your vein, but most of the clot was removed all right. Any remnants should not cause any problem. The doctor will visit you in a couple of hours, and give you a full report."

He blinked. Either he was growing stupid, or the drugs were turning his brain into slug jello. He understood only half of what she said.

"My sister, Darlene, where is she?"

"Ah, Ms. Williams, we had found her a room. She donated quite a lot of blood, while you were in the OR, so we had her rest. She will be able to see you in the few hours."

_Do I still have my leg?!_ He wanted to ask, but was afraid to. Stupid, childish fear. The nurse gently checked under the blanket, but he felt nothing.

"Everything looks good here. I'm afraid we will be moving you around quite a bit in the next few hours, might even need you to walk around. Don't worry, the nurse on shift will help you, but we can't have you forming any new clots now."

Don exhaled. She said _walk_, not _hop_. So, his leg must be intact. He nodded, and asked for some water.

"I'll bring you some. We do need you to rest as much as you can, but we will have to check on your often."

He didn't say anything - his eyes were already closing on their own. By the time the nurse left, he was already asleep. The next time he awoke, the nurse was shoving a thick needle under his skin. A blast of cold spread from the puncture site and up his arm.

"Sorry, Mr. Lamb, just changing out some of your fluids here and one of your needles got loose. How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Cold"

"We'll bring some blankets for you. Are you up for visitors?"

He stirred. Darlene?

"There is a young lady to see you, the poor thing been here since last night."

"What? Yes, please." - he could feel his heart pounding. _Could it be?_

The nurse finished checking him, and told him that she will send her right in. A few moments later, Veronica's face appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, Deputy. We really need to stop meeting like this." - She said quietly, but to Don it sounded like a choir of angels, singing from above. He couldn't help but grin. He noted the dark circles under her eyes - she must be so tired. Perhaps she was crying again, and all because of him.

"I do believe you are stalking me, Mars."

"I am. I hope you won't arrest me, Deputy." - she walked closer and took his hand. - "Missed you."

"Missed you too." - he brought her tiny hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers. There was nothing that has been said or mentioned about the last time that they spoke, and there didn't seem to be the need to. As if it never happened. For that, he was immeasurably grateful.

"The nurses tell me that you decide to lounge in the hospital for a while longer. The sponge baths must be really exceptional."

"They are. And the jello is out of this world" - he drank in the sight of her. - "You look tired."

"You too. Are you hurting?"

"No. Whatever they gave me is amazing."

"Can I get you anything? Darlene is still resting, I'm sure she will be in to see you as soon as she can."

"Don't need anything. Just you being here." - He smiled. Her fingers felt so right in his hand. - "Veronica, I want to say I'm s.."

She cut him off with a slight shake of her head. _Forgiven, then._ She pulled a chair closer to his bed, then placed her hand back into his. This simple gesture made Don's stomach muscles tighten. He would probably give both of his legs right now to be able to hold her close, taste the tender skin of her neck, get his fingers tangled in the honey-colored silk of her hair.

"Deputy, has anyone ever told you that you make a lovely vagrant" - she gently patted his unshaven cheek.

"I was hoping for more of a "pirate-outlaw" look."

"I'm afraid it's more of a Derelique than Black Pearl."

"You are welcome to have at it. As long as you don't use a straight razor." - he smiled, hoping she would. Anything to get her little body as close to his as possible.

"Do you think we are ready for this step?" - she grinned.

"Which step?"

"The shaving each other, step" - she bit her lip, blushing immediately. - "I didn't meant that."

"I think there is an offer in there somewhere. I accept. Bring your razors tomorrow."

She laughed, throwing back her head. Don felt like he was in heaven. They spent a couple of hours, just talking, until Darlene came to visit him. Spending time with the two women felt like being home. The hospital walls seem to disappear, and he no longer noticed the tubes, the beeping, the smell, the hushed sound of the loudspeaker. For the first time in the long time, possible for as long as he remembered, he felt like he was actually a part of something meaningful and lasting. And it made him want to turn back time and do things differently that time around.

* * *

"Darlene, I would love for you to come to my place tomorrow. My dad will be making tacos for dinner. Please?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, hon. I feel terrible leaving Don all by himself."

"Me too, but the doctor said that he will need plenty of rest. You know how he is avoiding sleeping when we are there. Plus, I'm sure you can use a real meal by now. I've seen Don's fridge. The bottom of my purse has more nutritious crumbs that that."

"You are right about that."

Inviting her over was Keith's suggestion. _How did I not think of this before?_ They planned on a later dinner, because Veronica knew that as soon as she got home - she would be out like a light for hours. Even the drive home was a struggle. She dropped off Darlene at Don's apartment, and struggling with keeping her eyes open, finally crawled up the steps and through the living room, and fell face down in her bed - shoes and all. The pillow felt heavenly against her cheek, and she drifted into a well-earned slumber.


	13. Tangled up

**Disclaimer**:** I don't own any characters. They belong to the creators of Veronica Mars and are borrowed for entertainment purposes.**

**Rating: M**

* * *

Days had passed, and turned into weeks. Daily physical therapy helped him to start regaining the strength in his leg, but it wouldn't take a genius to see that each step was laborious and filled with pain.

Darlene left a week ago - the women parted warmly. The more she got to know Don's sister, the more Veronica liked her. She was warm and accepting, but had this stern mom-like way about her. Perhaps Darlene reminded Veronica of her own mom, or rather what she always wished her mom should be like. But, having used up all her available vacation time, Darlene had to go back to North Carolina. She was apologetic to Veronica, but it was understood that a mother of two cannot be asked to stop her own life and work to babysit her big little brother. So Veronica did her best to tell her that her presence, no doubt, kept both Don and herself sane through all of this.

Keith personally came to visit Don, the first day that he got out of the hospital. Veronica got to hear about some of the aftermath to the Marina shoot-out, and she was sorry that her dad was stuck with it all. The surviving gunmen - three of them, were Mexican nationals, and had to be transported back across the border. The honor of this fell, of course, to her dad. The other two were local small-time drug dealers, that apparently crossed some serious cartel business.

The DEA agents also have started their investigation, and eventually took it over from Keith's hands (for which Veronica was endlessly grateful). The last thing she wanted, was to find her dad on the receiving end of a drug dealer's bullet.

When it came to her and Don, things between them have been strange. Not quite friends and not quite lovers - they seemed to be stuck in this odd middle ground of relationships. If one could even call it that. Don insisted to do the physical therapy alone, and took a cab to the hospital every day. Veronica didn't insist on accompanying him - it was evident that the exercises were hard on him. The man needs his privacy - Veronica would want the same, if she was in his position.

During the day, she hung out with Mac or took some easy cases for Mars Investigations. In the evenings, she would call Don and ask him if he would like her to come over - he never said no. Usually, they ended up watching TV together until Don fell asleep on the couch. The department gave him a paid leave of absence, until he got back on his feet. Don did not talk about coming back to work, in fact, whenever Veronica tried probing him on that - he steered the conversation away. Thankfully, he didn't seem to be drinking, which was just as well - he sure wasn't shy about taking his pain pills. The last thing that Veronica wanted to do is to find him passed in his apartment, or even worse - dead in the pool of his own vomit.

She often found herself questioning her own sanity - what was she doing now? Did she really love him, or was the tragedy simply made her think that? Did she just believe her own hormones, a few belly flutters, and made herself think that she needs to stop her life and devote all her time to Don? Her dad seemed to think so, even though he didn't bring up Don outside of polite questions about his well-being. Mac was a bit more forward on that front.

Veronica was driving out to meet her in their favorite cafe Downtown Neptune. She found her friend furiously typing on her laptop:

"Can't leave the school behind?" - Veronica said, sitting across from Mac. Mac blushed slightly.

"Not school, just catching up on some of my correspondence."

"Wait, are you talking to that guy from the blog?" - Mac blushed deeper. Veronica knew that her friend had a full-on nerd crush on some blogger guy, but was quite secretive about it.

"Not some guy. I think he is really cool. We have a lot in common."

"Are you thinking of meeting him?"

"I'm not sure. I can't deny the creep-factor of meeting someone I met online, but I also can't deny his nerd-allure. The man speaks my language."

"Klingon?"

Mac laughed.

"I'm so proud of you, Veronica. A few years ago, you probably wouldn't even know what a Klingon is."

"You aren't giving me enough credit. I am fairly well-versed in things of all walks of life, you know." - Veronica gave the waitress her order. - "Well, If you decide to meet him, but still have your doubts, I have the cutest little Taser that will go nicely with your laptop bag."

"Veronica, ever the matchmaker. Speaking of love life.." - she stopped typing and looked up. Veronica was amazed at her friend's ability to do two or more things at once. - "What's going on with your and the sheriff?"

Veronica wadded her napkin, trying to pick the least vague answer. Mac was usually pretty tactful, when it came to her love life, but she was also pretty curious.

"Not much, we are hanging."

"Hanging? Did he ask you on a date yet?"

"No. But he did just get out of the hospital. He is not altogether yet, and walking is a bit of a project"

"I see. You know, I saw Logan the other day, he is back in town." - Mac sounded casual about it, but her words made Veronica's heart flutter a bit. Even now, almost two years later since they dated, hearing his name definitely had an effect to her.

"Are you trying to tell me something? Offer me a better man to snuggle up against?" - Veronica could feel her palms sweating a bit as well.

"Ew, are you implying some snugglage with the sheriff?"

"Don't be a prude, Mac. Plus, he is not...what I thought he was. I think."

"Sounds like you're the one who needs convincing. I'm just worried about you, Veronica. The last time we spoke you actually considered leaving college."

"Yes, a lapse in judgement."

"So, you are going back?"

"Yeah. I think I overestimated Don's need for my presence at all times." - she watched her friend's face cringe just a bit. No doubt Veronica's use of Don's first name was just as odd to her as it was to Veronica herself. - "Plus, I really think my dad will take up arms against him, if I do."

"Smart man." - Mac grinned, watching her screen and resumed her furious typing.

The waitress brought Veronica her latte and a scone. She licked the whipped cream off the top - her favorite part of the whole treat. She couldn't blame Mac for being doubtful about her and Don, after all, neither of them made any more towards defining the relationship. And defining relationships, is something Veronica definitely did not enjoy doing. As Wallace put it - girls tend to overthink things. Was she overthinking this? Don and her seemed to have fun together, but it was an odd kind of fun. He kept her at an arm's distance. She couldn't even remember them kissing on the lips since he last left the hospital. True, he was also in a lot of pain, probably depressed, and uncertain about his future. Her dad did tell her, that if Don returned to the force, he will most likely be relegated to a desk job for the rest of his life. Maybe some light patrol duty - provided he actually runs (and wins) in the next election. Dad made no mentioned whether he would actually hire him back, should Don lose his position as the sheriff.

So, Veronica tried to be an adult about the situation, but the feeling of rejection never left her. It was not even about sex. It was the unsettling feeling that she was the one who wanted more than what Don was willing to give her. Yet, she kept coming back to him.

"So, Mac, what about Logan?" - Veronica asked, sipping on her latte.

"You can ask him yourself, actually. Sorry, this wasn't my plan, he just texted me where we were, so I will have to apologize for the awkward ahead." - Mac waved at the window. Veronica turned around and saw Logan walking towards the cafe. He looked tan and much thinner that she remembered him last. He did tell her in passing that him and Dick were heading to Brazil for a month - they were finally able to take the trip of their dreams. Veronica gave her the "_How could you!_" look to Mac, but waved to Logan as well. His eyes lit up.

"Veronica. Mac. Do you ladies mind my company?" - he asked, approaching their table, once he got inside. Mac looked at Veronica.

"Of course not. How have you been?" - Veronica forced a casual smile. Why was this so awkward? She'd shared more of her inner self with him than anyone else. At some point he was closer to her than anyone, even Lilly.

"Amazing. Brazil was good to me." - he shook his head to the waitress, declining to order. _So he is not staying_, Veronica thought with relief.

"Brazil looks good on you as well." - she said and bit her tongue. Old habits die hard, but to her defense - he was a handsome guy. - "Are you in town for long, or you and Dick are off to find the next adventure?"

"Not sure yet. It depends." - he looked uncomfortable. Mac's eyes darted between them. Finally the girl closed her laptop and stood up:

"Bathroom. Emergency. You two, please talk amongst yourselves." - as she practically sprinted for the restroom.

_I will never forgive your betrayal,_ Veronica thought, fighting the urge to run after her. Just like that - she was alone with Logan. It was strange how she felt nothing towards him, not like before. She didn't want to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, or rake his hair, or even hold his hand. Yet, he felt familiar and warm. And she could plainly see the question that he was trying to ask - his eyes looked pleading.

"Hey, I was thinking...While you are in town, would you want to go out for coffee?" - he said. _That's not what you want to ask me_, she thought.

"We'll, I'm having a coffee now. Would you like one?"

"Not what I meant. Sorry, I guess a month with Dick on the virgin beaches of Brazil made me forget the basic communication skills."

"I doubt that anything, that Dick is on, is virgin. Are you trying to ask me out?"

"Would you be against me asking you out?"

Veronica hesitated, studying the scumbles of her scone. Logan waited for her answer.

"I would. But I wouldn't mind having some coffee with you. As friends." - Veronica finally said. She could see Logan's face falling. He did look adorable when he pouted. After a few seconds, he nodded his head in gratitude.

"Well, then let's meet tonight at the Cafe le Friend-Zone?" - he grinned. Veronica shook her head - she had a case to finish up tonight.

"Tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow. Here?" - Veronica smiled. _This is a mistake, Veronica_. But Logan was a friend, despite their past. Despite Madison. Despite Kendall. Despite the fighting. Still, she couldn't help to think that she was giving him false hope. _Well, then, it's best to clear the air._

Logan already left, by the time Mac finally emerged from the restroom. She looked apologetic.

"You know what they do to traitors?" - Veronica asked sternly.

"Whatever it is, I'll face it. It beats the awkwardness the two of you exude whenever you meet. What's the deal with the two of you? Are you getting back together?"

"Oh, no. I've been on that ride a few times, and I think I'm getting too tall for it."

"So, what happened?"

"I don't think I should tell you." - Veronica casually checking her cell phone. Mac groaned.

"Fine, punish me. But mind you, when the time comes to meet my man of mystery.."

"Ok, Ok. I'll agree to a fine of one orange scone for this betrayal. He asked me to have a coffee with him."

"Uh-oh"

"Not uh-oh, I told him it's not a date."

"I'm guessing you didn't tell him about the sheriff."

"There is nothing to tell."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I will, when the time comes."

"I admire your ability to live dangerously, V."

"Some call it terminal stupidity, when it comes to men. But, I'm a slave to my heart."

Veronica got a call from a client, who wanted to go over some details, and she bid farewell to Mac. Her friend waved her off, still engrossed in her conversation with someone on the other side of her laptop screen.

Veronica's mind raced, as she tried to figure out what happened. _Why did I agree to meet with Logan? I won't be sucked into him, no way, no how. That pony left the reservation. _The problem was, she wanted Don to tell her straight up: does he want her or not? She never thought to find herself in this stupid situation - waiting for Don (of all of the people on this planet) to ask her out. To tell her he cared for her, that he loved her. He was gentle and friendly, no doubt. They exchanged their quips like the old times, only instead of venomous remarks - they were playful and almost tender. But when it came to things that girlfriend and boyfriends share, he suddenly shut down. _Maybe I'm wasting my time. After all, he is an older man. No doubt he feels I have nothing to offer him. Stupid, Veronica, Stupid!_

Before Darlene left back home, she tried to persuade Don to leave everything and come live with her and her family. She offered to find the best therapist his insurance could afford, and Keith said that he would be glad to help with the benefits transfer to another state. His pension should cover most of the expenses and he was happy to provide any references he might want. Don refused. He never gave a reason, beyond the "this is my home and I'll be fine". Part of Veronica was hoping that the reason he stayed - was her. But he never bothered to show her this, not really. Another part of her was hoping that he would accept Darlene's offer - if there was one place, where he could be whole again, it would be among family, surrounded by people who love him. She couldn't think of anyone else who could keep Don in check better than his sister.

Veronica was afraid that Don might succumb to his habit again. She knew all too well, that the lapses and "clean periods" can last a while. But that's what they were - periods. At least in her mom's case. Veronica didn't have the emotional footing to stop him, nor did she know how to handle something like that. If she couldn't stop her own mother from trashing their lives, how could she hope to do this for someone, who was not even her boyfriend?

Later that evening, Veronica called Don. He sounded like he just woke up, even though it was only around nine o'clock.

"Evenin' Deputy" - she said, picturing his tousled hair and sleepy face. No doubt he was on the couch, with a bag of Doritos in his lap. Pathetic, but so cute. She WAS a slave to her heart.

"Mars. Will I have the pleasure of your company tonight? Ramsey is coming back to Amy's Bakery tonight."

_Dammit, I wanted to see that episode of Kitchen Nightmares. _With Don's practically confined to his apartment, she had seen more reality TV in the past week, than she had in her entire life. Strangely, she found the scary chef Ramsey's shouting very cathartic.

"Afraid I'll have to leave you on your own to figure out the DVR. I have some spying to do."

"Of course. So, you will be stalking some hapless chap under the cover of night, taking pictures of him and his lady friend?"

"Actually, no lady friend. More of a male lover variety. At least it's something different."

"Saucy. Want company?" - Veronica smiled. He never offered to be a part of her business before. This could be fun, but distracting.

"As much as I would LOVE company, who will make sure that my show gets recorded?"

"The DVR."

"Who will program it?" - Veronica said sternly. Operating anything electronic was not a talent of Don's. There was silence on the line. She grinned.

"Could you walk me through it again?"

Veronica dutifully walked him through the processed, that she showed him already at least three times. His breathing was heavy, as if the DVR buttons were immeasurably difficult to push. She fought the urge to giggle. This was just too cute: a sheriff, who has so much trouble operating a simple TV recorder.

"Ok, I think it's set to record it."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure. So, can I come out and play with you?" - his voice sounded just suggestive enough to give her a slight delicious shiver. This was new. He must be having an exceptionally good day. And a good day for Don could mean an excellent one for her.

"Only if you promise to stay in the car and be quiet."

"I do have the stakeout training, Mars. Remember - Cop?"

"Ah yes. I often forget."

"Should I wear my uniform?"

"Because that would be completely inconspicuous. Did you get your training by watching the Police Academy movies?"

"I thought you liked it when I wear my uniform."

"Wear whatever you'd like, but you are staying in the car. Be ready in an hour"

"Yes, boss." - he chuckled. Veronica's heart swelled. This was the first time he seemed to be playful since coming back home. - "See you soon."

"Do you need me to pick you up?"

"No, I'll manage. See you at your place."

They hung up. Veronica couldn't help but smile. This was frustrating and wonderful at the same time. Frustrating, because their being together felt so right and organic, that on the days when he became an emotional turtle - she was left wondering what she did wrong. And every time she had to tell herself - _it's not you. It's can't be. It's him and his leg._ Yet, the words that he said to her in the hospital, when she tried to talk to him about his drinking - like little worms, moved inside her heart. With every warm smile he gave her, with every kiss on her cheek, with every touch of his hand - they whispered to her. She hated that he said them, whether he meant them or not. She hated that they had taken up residence in her heart. Those kind of things poisoned everything good and right.

She pushed the evil worm-words deep down and started looking for the cutest outfit she could think of. Her night just got much better - the prospect of spending a few hours in the same car with Don, instead of waiting for her target alone, thrilled her.

* * *

Almost an hour and a half later, Don knocked on the door of her apartment. She was ready to go, and was actually hoping that she could slip out before her dad sees that she would be accompanied by Don. Of course, as if having some Superdad sense - he spent the evening lounging in front of the TV, way later than usual:

"Don, I didn't realize you are taking up some investigation lessons from Veronica."

"I have a feeling I might need to start looking for a new job. How are you, Mr. Mars?" - Don nodded, looking uncomfortable. He reminded Veronica of a teenager, who came to pick up a girl to the movies. She gave her father a warning glance, but Keith's face spread into an amused grin.

"I'm just doing what I can to help, Don. I'm not planning to take up a permanent residence in your office."

"I think the mayor likes you more than me." - Don offered, waiting for Veronica to find her keys.

"He is not a hard man to please. Did you hear that they want to award you with a commendation for the excellent service?"

This was news to Veronica.

"Yes, I got a call yesterday. Not sure I deserve it."

"Oh, come now, Sheriff. There is no shame in accepting it. I think you did well. We all do."

"If you say so." - Don looked at Veronica pleadingly. She nodded to him slightly, finally ready to head out the door.

"I'm out, dad." - she leaned in and gave Keith a peck on the cheek.

"You go get em, kiddo. You two kids behave yourselves." - he shot a warning glance to Don.

They left. Keith's smile faded, and he stared at the TV grimly. So the little romance is not over. What kind of game is Lamb playing?

* * *

Veronica pulled her car over across the street from the Camelot. The subject did not arrive yet, so Veronica took her time to check the equipment. The camera was loaded and ready. She felt Don's curious eyes on her the whole time and couldn't help but feel just a bit prideful. She knew she was good at this. Her hands were familiar with the motions - she's been doing it for years. She glanced at him, sitting in the passenger seat. He shaved, she noted. The dim light of the streetlights made his face look stark, but the glint of the bright blue eyes suggested that he wanted more than just to sit there and look at her. Veronica shifted in her seat, regretting that she caught him in this mood when she had to do work. This _was _going to be distracting. She started to say something, but heard a car pull up into Camelot's parking lot - the subject's car. A middle-aged man came out, looking around tentatively. She had seen this posture so many times - slumped shoulders, nervous gait, eyes darting from side to side. She'd seen it enough times to no longer be disgusted by it. Men, women, young, old - she had seen so many couples lie and cheat that it no longer surprised or shocked her. She snapped a few photos of the man walking up the steps. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of the subject's lover, but so - no money shot, and she's been at this for two weeks now.

The man opened the door, slipping inside. Veronica sighed. She had to wait until they were done and hope for the best. She knew exactly whom the man was seeing, it's just that she couldn't catch them together. The wife of the subject (or more exactly - his beard) knew for a long time that her husband did not prefer blonds, at least not of the female variety. But now that some serious money was on the line, she was looking for a way to not share. Veronica lowered her camera and put the lens cover back on.

"You know, you look cute, when you spy." - Don's voiced sounded closer - he was leaning towards her. Slightly raspy, it was sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't possibly work like this.

"Afraid that this is the extent of the excitement - now we wait." - she said, flashing him a smile.

"I can guarantee you, it's not." - he extended his hand and traced her arm with his finger.

"I do think you have alternative motives for tonight, Deputy."

"Well, I definitely didn't come here to spy on Mr. Jennings." - he smiled.

"You know him?"

"Sure do. Had to come break up his fight with a neighbor over someone's dog shitting on his yard. He tried to burn his neighbor's lawnmower."

"Wow." - she carefully put her camera in the back seat, as Don's fingers were now caressing her neck. It was hard to concentrate on anything else at the time. - "So, tell me Deputy. To what do I own the honor of your presence tonight."

"Oh, this…" - his finger traced the delicate ridges of her earlobe. - "that…" - he continued down her neck and allowed his finger to slide under the strap of her tank top. Veronica felt her nipples harden, as he did that. Don leaned in, his breath warming her neck. Sudden fear rushed through her, but his breath did not smell of alcohol. It was fresh and moist, and she wanted to plunge her mouth unto his and do unspeakable things to it.

"I thought your intentions were honorable." - the southern-bell came out again.

"Quite the opposite." - his lips connected with the sensitive skin on her neck. She felt his tongue gently slide over it and couldn't help but throw her head back. Her heart was beating wildly, and forgetting all her doubts - she let his mouth shamelessly ravage her neck.

All of the doubts and fears dimmed in Veronica's mind - right now her body wanted one thing. Thoughts muddled, she also knew that she was here to do a job. Damn, Mr. Jennings. Perhaps he will give them some extra time. Is this really happening? Now? In her car?

She turned herself towards Don, and grabbing his shirt - pulled him closer to her. It was an awkward position for both, and he winced a bit, but didn't fail to lower his face and close his mouth on hers. _This is insane,_ she thought. _He can do anything he wants with me right now. Anything. _Don's hand traveled from her shoulders and down her sides, his fingers deftly sliding under the shirt. Apparently that is exactly what he intended to do - anything he wanted. And she was going to let him.

She couldn't help, but to let out a slight moan, when his fingers glided over her nipples. She wished the bra would just simply disappear, allowing him full access to her body. She was never shy about her body and she had experience with men before. But somehow this was special. Just to get Don, _her _Don, the Sheriff, so close to her - felt heavenly. She let his hands travel wherever he could physically reach, both of them fighting the constraints of her small car. He audibly groaned, attempting to turn further towards her, wincing in pain.

"Your leg?" - she gently slided her palm over his thigh, feeling the scar under the material of his jeans. He nodded.

"Don't worry about it. I am much more interested in getting you out of this" - he tugged on the strap of her tank top.

"Not sure if this is a good idea. Don't get me wrong, I don't deny the allure of this enterprise, but you have to admit, if we get caught…"

He grinned. She wondered if the thrill of getting caught with her in the car was a big driving force for this.

"Are you embarrassed to be caught with me?" - his hands cupped her breasts. Veronica shook her head, swallowing hard. At this point, she couldn't care of he dragged her out in the middle of the parking lot and had his way with her right there, under the yellow street lamps. - "Well, then, I thought you liked to live dangerously."

"You do know this is illegal?"

"I do, I am the Sheriff, after all." - his southern drawl slipped through clearly, and made Veronica completely and utterly wet. As if sensing this, he grinned and put his palms on her sides. - "Come here." With his help, Veronica cleared the cup holder divider between them and in a few seconds found herself straddling Don's lap. Her eyes meeting with his intent blue eyes, they joined in another kiss. _Much better. _She pressed her body to his, hoping to melt right into it. He somehow managed to undo the button on her jeans, slipping his fingers under her underwear - just far enough to make her wiggle in anticipation,but not far enough to give her the much-desired relief. Her wiggling made him groan, unfortunately, it seemed to be more from pain than pleasure. Suddenly Veronica didn't care anymore. If he wanted to make her writhe, he will have to suffer the pain. She tried to urge his fingers further towards her hot aching slit. But he toyed with her mercilessly, allowing them to travel just on the outskirts of her magic button. _Deliciously infuriating. The Sheriff does like to play games. _Veronica leaned into him and bit his shoulder - just hard enough to get his attention.

"Mmm, is that a warning bite?" - he asked huskily. There was no doubt in her mind that he was amused by making her writhe on his lap in anticipation.

"Perhaps. I don't like being toyed with."

"Then why don't you tell me what you want." - his eyes were intense, his gaze relentless. Suddenly he was completely serious. Veronica could feel his cock nice and hard, separated from her flesh only by the material of his jeans. The time for games was over. She was done waiting.

"You."

"No, I want you to say it clearly. Use small words, because I'm slow." - he pressed her small body down on his lap, bringing her just a few millimeters closer to her desired destination. She whimpered, her thoughts clouded. This was like wine, like drugs, like going completely mad.

"I want you, inside of me. I want to screw your brains out right here, right now. Any way you want." - her words surprised even herself, but she didn't care. It was evident that she was getting anything she wants at this point. She thanked the gods that she took her birth control pill this morning.

He lifted her off his lap, as much as the tiny space allowed. The awkwardness of their location was overshadowed by their mutual desire and determination to screw one another. Don struggled with his pants, finally being able to free his cock from the tight restraints. Veronica, standing over him in half-bent position, pulled hers down as much as she could - this car really was too small for this. She admired him for a second. Very nice - not too large and definitely not small - it should feel just right.

Don's as if fearing that her admiration was actually hesitation, pulled her back down on his 's eyes never left Don's as she carefully positioned herself over the tip of his cock. She didn't think that he could get any harder, and that gave her a tug of smug satisfaction. As she poised herself, rubbing the silky tip on her wet opening, Don started to pull her down on top of it: gently but insistently. Apparently he didn't like to be toyed with either.

Veronica lowered herself on him, his cock sliding between the welcoming folds, filling her with ease. A wave of sharp pleasure ripped through her, and she shuddered. There was nothing like the first stroke. Her eyes still locked on his, she slowly rocked her hips, revelling in the feeling of him inside. His fingers dug into her sides, and he moaned. The sound made her insides shudder, echoing him. Not sure how long she would be able to last, she leaned down to kiss him, quickening the pace of her hips. Her body came down hard on his thighs - it might be painful, but Don't didn't seem to notice. Her thoughts were almost incoherent at this point, and Veronica realized that there was no way that she could keep this up for as long as she hoped for. This felt too good, and she went too long without it. _Her _Don was inside of her, his nails digging into her skin. His breath mixed with hers and the taste of his skin, lingering on her lips, threatened to send her over the edge with each movement. Her body wanted the release NOW and Veronica felt powerless to stop the wave. Her insides were like a taut guitar string, just begging to be plucked and to sound the sweetest note of completed lovemaking.

Her hips coming down on his lap harder, Veronica felt a tug on her hair. Don's fingers were tangled in them, as he pulled her face in front of him.

"Veronica, I can't hold it anymore." - his voice sounded apologetic. She smiled, feeling the wave getting closer.

"Deputy, I won't let you suffer long. Almost there."

"Say my name." - he pulled her hair harder, his eyes fixed on her. She tried throwing her head back, hardly able to contain her orgasm, but his hand prevented her from doing this. Pain of him pulling her hair and sheer pleasure of his cock almost instantly sent her over the edge. - "No, say my name. Not Deputy. Say it."

"Don, oh God, Don. Yes, oh my God!" - she cried out, as she came hard and relentless. Her insides shuddered, as she helplessly grabbed unto him.

Finally, the throbbing subsided and she leaned on his chest, exhausted. He held her close, neither of them saying anything. Her vision was becoming clearer now, and shame filled her. She must have been loud. How loud - Who knows? She wouldn't be surprised if all of the tenants of the Camelot were standing outside, looking at the car and wondering who was being murdered inside. She lifted her head off Don's chest to look outside.

"Don't worry. No one is out there." - he whispered, stroking her hair gently. _I might get caught and arrested for fucking the sheriff in the passenger seat of my car in a parking lot of the seediest motel in Neptune,_ Veronia thought absent-mindedly. That didn't seem so scary. Not unless her dad finds out. They held each other few a few minutes, but the seating arrangement was becoming more awkward, and Veronica was all too aware that her bare ass could be visible to anyone who might be peeking in.

Suddenly embarrassed, Veronica lifted herself off Don's lap and struggled to pull her jeans back on. He sighed audibly, parting with her body, but did the same. She struggled to move back into the driver's seat. Mr. Jennings' car was still out there - apparently his lover had more stamina than she did. She grinned. She just fucked the Sheriff and loved every second of it. But now it was awkward and strange.

"Hey, Veronica." - Don sounded tired, but his smile was warm. - "I know I've been kind of a dick about the whole "us" thing. I haven't forgotten what I said to you in the hospital. "

Veronica swallowed hard. She wasn't quite ready for this frankness, but allowed him to continue.

"I am sorry, so very sorry." - he continued. - "I am a retard, when it comes to this."

"Hey, don't" - she started, but he stopped her, placing his hand on hers.

"Let me do this. I've been thinking a lot about us, actually. I never thought that someone like you would actually want to be seen with me, you know? So, I figured you were gonna book it, if not then then soon. I panicked. I can't promise anything either, I'm kind of fucked up."

"Everyone is. What makes you think that I don't have my own storage locker for all the baggage in my life?"

"Not like this. Or maybe..I dunno. Let me gather my thoughts, I'm confused." - his southern drawl was intoxicating. She was glad that she got a chance to hear it - it was soothing. She smiled, watching him rake his finger through his hair, trying to formulate what he wanted to say. _He is either breaking up with me, or trying to propose. I don't know which is scarier, but I feel wonderful right now. _

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that this is not just some fling. For me. I want you in my life. Will you date me?" - he looked adorably unsure.

"I thought my intentions were clear." - she said.

"Sorry, as I said, I'm a bit on the slow side."

"Yes, I'd love to date you."

He grinned, leaning back in his seat, relaxed.

"Am I getting a jacket out of it? Are you going to pin me, Sheriff?"

"I thought I just did, Mars."

_That you did, Donnie, that you did._ Still smiling, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the door to Mr. Jennings' room open. She darted to the back seat, groping for her camera. But by the time she turned around and was ready to shoot - the man was already descending down the steps. His lover was well-hidden behind the now-closed door. Veronica groaned. No luck again!

"I do love it, when you call me Sheriff. You know that?"

"Don't get used to it. You'll have to work hard for that privilege."

"Can't wait. Sorry about your work, looks like we missed the guy."

"There is always next week."

Veronica dropped Don off at his place, and wished him good night, in exchange for a thoughtful wet kiss. She was praying that her dad was asleep - there was no way he wouldn't know what happened. She smelled like sex, and the big wet stain on her jeans (Don's contribution to their hot and heavy affair) wasn't leaving much to the imagination. Luckily - he was. She slipped into the apartment and tip-toed directly to her bedroom. Elated, exhausted, and completely satisfied - she snuggled under the blanket. Don's scent lulled her off to blissful sleep.


	14. Thunder rolls

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, they belong to the creators of Veronica Mars. They are borrowed for entertainment purposes only**

**Characters**: Lamb, Veronica, Logan.

**A/N**: Don't hate me, guys and girls! Please leave reviews. Truly sorry for all mistakes, I got back and edit stuff all the time, but seems like I miss some anyway. Please don't be afraid to point them out (especially grammar stuff). Anyway - have fun, hope you enjoy!

Veronica stood in front of her closet, feverishly thinking about what to wear. She was meeting Logan for brunch, but kept asking herself why she agreed to this in the first place. She knew him well enough to know what he wanted. He was going to ask to see her again, and she would have to break his heart. Not that he thought twice about breaking hers, having a fun romp around the cabin with Madison Sinclair. _Water under the bridge, girl. You really need to learn to let things go. _But she couldn't. Part of her knew, that Logan hated Don far more than she hated Madison, if that was at all possible.

She chose a simple grey T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and blue sneakers. No makeup, no perfume. Logan was already waiting at the table near the window. _Here comes nothing, or more likely - a whole lot of uncomfortable talking,_ Veronica thought. She smiled and took a seat across.

They spent a few minutes of chatting about various neutral topics. He told her about Brazil - Dick, apparently almost got married to a lovely local girl, who turned out to be already married. They nearly got shot. Logan ended up spending most of their money to pay the woman's husband off, and ended up having a few beers with him afterwards. Veronica nervously looked outside, hoping that he would just spill it out so they could go their separate ways. Is that even possible at this point? It seemed like their history, the shared pain of their past - forever bound them together.

"Veronica, you look preoccupied. Everything OK?"

"Yeah, just being fidgety. Sorry. So are you planning to go back to school?"

"Dunno. I think right now I just want to do what I want to do, for a change. School never agreed with me."

"More like you never agreed with the school's policy."

"Something like that. You know I didn't ask you out for a reason, can we talk?" - he lowered his head, but his gaze was fixed on her face. Logan's "lets get down to business" face. Veronica unwittingly held her breath and nodded. - "You know, I can never make up for I did, how I acted. But I was hoping that there is a way we can try again"

"Try again?" - she knew she was stalling.

"Us. We were good together. At least I thought we were, until I fucked it up."

Veronica said nothing, searching for words Carefully picking them in her mind, before opening her mind.

"I wanted to ask, would you like to go out with me?" - he paused, studying her face. Veronica looked at her hands and sighed. Logan nodded. - "You are seeing someone?"

"Yes."

"Piz?" - Veronica shook her head.

"Is it someone I know? Someone from school? It's not Weevil, is it?" - she could see the tiny vein in his temple starting to throb.

"Yes, it's someone you know, and it's most definitely not Weevil. Quite the opposite."

Logan sat, stunned. After a few moments, he finally threw his hands up in their air.

"You know, I understand that I'm not your favorite person, but I was hoping that part of you would at least be kind to me. I realize that you don't owe me anything, but as a friend (can I at least call you that?), would you make guess until the end of my days on who it is?"

"Its Don Lamb." - Veronica met his gaze. Surprisingly, there was no reaction on his face. _Maybe he didn't hear me?_ He blinked, moving his cup out of the way, and a small smile started to spread on his face.

"Funny, Veronica. Did you just say Don Lamb?"

When Veronica did not return the smile, his face started to gradually turn red. The vein became more pronounced, and she felt an irresistible urge to duck. Was he going to shout, flip the table? Throw his cup at her? But he sat quietly, staring at her in disbelief. Finally, his quiet voice reached her:

"Tell me you did not just say that you are seeing Lamb. Are you insane?"

"I don't think you have a right to tell me that."

"Lamb? Really?! I thought you were joking. HIM?" - his voice was getting louder, and a couple of people in the cafe turned to stare. Veronica grabbed her bag. She was beginning to feel anger rising up in her throat, but would hate to make a scene.

"Grow up Logan. I was hoping that we could talk about this like friends. I can see now that there is no point. And frankly, after your stint with Madison, I'm sorry, but you have no right to judge me on my choice of partners."

"For crying out loud, Veronica, Madison was a mistake. I never claimed to _be _with her. But you...Lamb?"

"I should go. This was a mistake." - she left a ten dollar bill on the table, and started walking towards the door. Logan didn't follow. Veronica just wanted to get in her car and drive, before he exploded. In all these years, Logan taught her two things - he was just as explosive in bed, as he was when he was pissed. Anything could happen. She made her way to her car, hoping that he didn't follow. No such luck.

Logan, grabbing her arm, spun her around towards him. Her arm burned.

"You are hurting me!"

"Him? Why, Veronica? Do you not know the kind of asshole that he is? Did he not spend years cuffing and arresting you for no reason whatsoever. God, Veronica, I would understand Weevil - at least that kid got brains and some semblance of decency, but Lamb?" - Logan was shouting now, and Veronica could feel the eye of curious onlookers.

"Please, Logan. Let me go. Lets not do this." - she whispered, feeling hot tears forming in her eyes.

"Do what? Break everything that we had in just a matter of seconds? You know, I really did think that you were something, Veronica. Something truly amazing, someone that I could look up to."

"I never asked you to!"

"You didn't have to. I would have done ANYTHING for you. Do you understand this? What can he give you?"

"Have you ever thought that people want to be with people not because they can get things? Do you realize that I was never with you because you could offer me things?" - Veronica spat back. Dammit, she was crying now - this was humiliating. She saw some guy starting to walk towards them.

"Are you OK, is this dude bothering you?" - the guy asked, obviously ready for a fight. Oh, God no, not this. Veronica smiled weakly through her tears.

"No, we've fine, just a little argument. Really. He is a friend."

"Some friend.." - the guy glared at Logan, who held the glare well. Veronica knew that Logan was itching to hit something. It will never be her, so any innocent concerned stranger will do. But thankfully, chivalrous stranger walked away. Logan looked at Veronica, his face still flushed.

"We're done, Veronica. Wish you the best with your sheriff and whatever wild adolescent fantasy you are acting out. Don't worry, I won't be bothering you anymore. Have a good life." - and with that, he let go of her arm and started to walk away.

Veronica climbed in her car, sobbing. On one hand, this actually didn't go half as bad as she imagined. On the other hand, it went terrible. She wanted to go home and cry on her dad's shoulder, but the last thing he needed right now is another remix of Logan-drama. And they weren't even dating now. She dialed Don's number, hoping he was not at the hospital yet, but then remembered that he didn't have his PT that day. The phone rang, but Don didn't answer. She didn't leave a voice message - the last thing he needs is to hear her sobbing over the phone.

* * *

Don looked at his phone - this must have been 5th or 6th call from Veronica today. His finger traced the screen, until the buzzing subsided. This would be the 5th or 6th call from her that he didn't pick up. Leaning back on the couch, he took another swig from the bottle - the beer was frosty and it slid down his throat pleasantly. This was his third bottle.

Just this morning, he woke up feeling like owned the world. Even though his leg was killing him, he felt that what him and Veronica did last night was far worth any pain or torture that his body can inflict on him. Still, the leg hurt like it never had before. He ended up taking two of his pills.

All morning, he was trying to think what kind of a romantic gesture he could offer to his favorite PI - flowers? Pretty cliche, plus he didn't think she was a flowers kind of girl. Pastries? That's an idea - that little thing really did love to eat. There are millions of women who would kill to have her metabolism. Jewelry - now that's definitely something he could get behind. Traditional. Something sweet and simple, but tasteful. He was thinking a necklace. By the time he got Downtown, he was ready to turn around and go back - even with the double dose of Vicodin, the throbbing in his thigh was torturous. But he wanted to check out the little jewelry shop that had some really nice things - he stopped there once for someone a few years back. Never ended up having to give it to her either - she dumped him for a football player. That's how he knew that the store's owners are exceptionally customer-oriented, and their return policy is quite generous.

He saw Veronica's car, parked outside of the Mugshot Cafe. He didn't want her to see him and ruin the surprise. Although, knowing Veronica, she probably already knew what he did, was doing, and what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He couldn't help but scan the windows of the cafe from across the street - Veronica was sitting by one of them. Don recalls thinking how beautiful she was, right then and there - wispy strands of hair framing her face, soft smile on her lips. How his heart made a joyful little jump, seeing her. How he wanted to forget the gifts and run to her (or more exactly - hobble pitifully across the street). She said something to the person across the table.

Don took another swig, feeling the nausea at his throat. Pain pills and beer really don't mix, but he didn't care at this point. His mind replayed the scene over and over: Logan, she was sitting with Logan. Smiling, talking. Like best of friends. Like long-separated lovers.

Don groaned, feeling stupid. _What did I expect? You are an idiot, Don. _At the same time, he felt like he was at fault for spying on her. After all, they were just talking. It's not like they were making out. _Just talking, right?_ Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was under water, and the waves just kept washing over his head. He never thought himself to be a jealous type, but when it came to Veronica - well that was a whole different roller-coaster to ride. The worst of all, deep down, he knew that he is not good enough for Veronica. He will never be good enough for her. All he can offer her is a drunk failed ex-cop who can barely walk. Sure, the sex was fantastic, but she will get her fill eventually and will be off looking for something of substance. And he wouldn't blame her. Of course, that didn't mean that he was going to be happy about it.

He spent the rest of the day sitting in the empty apartment, drinking beer and dodging her calls. When he heard a knock on the door, he didn't want to answer it, but whoever it was - kept knocking. Then the knocking turned to banging and he heard Veronica's voice:

"Don, I know you are home. If you won't open, I'll assume you are hurt. and you know I will break down the door."

He sighed, and put his beer down. His legs carried him to the door - he felt nauseated again. A few seconds later he found himself face to face with an angry blond:

"Really Don? I tried calling you like ten times. I don't want to be that kind of a girl, but I really thought something happened to you." - she walked inside, without asking for permission to come in. Don just stood back - the room was swaying just enough to know that he was well-past the stage where he could hide that he was drinking. Plus, the bottles on the floor of the living room were a dead giveaway. Veronica stopped short, seeing the remnants of the one-man party on the floor.

"Are you serious?" - she slowly turned around, her face twisted in disbelief. He shrugged and watched her slowly weave between the bottles and snack wrappers on the floor, as if they were field mines, and sit on the couch. Her face looked stricken. - "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you been back to drinking?"

"Just today. Didn't have a good day."

"You could have called me."

"You were busy." - he felt the wave of jealousy rise up again. He wanted to say something nasty and hurtful, but the sadness in her eyes stopped him.

"Busy? What are you talking about? I called you several times. I could have used you being there, you know." - she looked around helplessly - "And this..I don't even know what to say. What can I say to make you seek help?"

"Help? With what? With being pissed?" - he narrowed his eyes and shut the door.

"Look, I know this sucks. You get shot and everything is upside down. I can't claim to know what you are going through, but trust me I know how it feels when your life is turned on it's head. Please? Lets talk about this."

"I think you misunderstood me. I'm not pissed about being shot - I couldn't care less about my job or this town. The one thing that I had going for me was you - ONE thing. Yeah, I am pissed. I am pissed at you hanging out with the Echolls kid without telling me. I hope you had a good time." - He leaned against the wall for support. Her lips pressed together, she studied him.

"Were you spying on me?"

"No, just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"We just met for coffee. That's all. We used to be friends, you know. Is this going to be a problem?"

"You tell me. IS there a problem?"

"Yes, there is. You - drinking, that's a problem. I can't, no I won't deal with this again."

"Is this an ultimatum?"

"No. I need you to understand that I cannot be around this - you know my mother, you know what happened and how she was. Not again, not me, not my father."

"It's just one drink, Veronica, for fuck's sake! I was upset, and I made a mistake."

Veronica lowered her head. The words rang hollow - she heard them before. She heard the excuses from her own mother, when her dad confronted her. She heard the promises that were never followed up with anything. Not again. She felt helpless and rejected.

"Don, I don't know what I can say or do, but I want you to find an AA group. This, us, is never going to be unless you can do this, do you understand?" - she looked him straight in the eye, unwavering. He started back at her, defiant. The booze was telling him that Veronica was overreacting. His heart was filled with anger - she never did explain the Logan thing. And his logic told him - _let her go, Don. Before you break her, let her go. _

Don held her stare, but said nothing. He felt like a fog surrounded him. His mind was flooded with images from his past: how he verbally abused this girl for years, how he failed on so many counts in his life, how he failed to just man up and tell her to scram from the beginning. Even if he did clean up, even if he did not have another drink in his life - he will eventually screw up. He will rob of her of every potential she has, just like his father did to his mom. He will smother that bright light with his life's baggage. So he said nothing, and simply looked at her face. The tears running down her cheeks broke his heart, but he said nothing.

"Well, then, I see your answer is clear. I thought this meant something to you. I guess I was wrong." - she said, standing up. Don, numbly, watched her walk towards the front door. It hurt more than he could ever imagine something like this hurting. But this was the right thing to do - _let her walk her be free of you and your bullshit, Don. Don't break her like you got broken._

He was still standing by the wall near the front door long after Veronica left. Her light scent was disappearing from the air. Don stared at the floor - starting to sober up. He dragged his body to the couch and looked at the remaining bottles.

"Well, then, looks like we are done, after all." - the cap twisted off with ease, and a slight "whoosh" escaped it. Don saluted into the air and took another swig.


	15. You'll think of me

Veronica dug her fork into the mac-n-cheese absentmindedly. She didn't notice Keith staring at her, as if waiting for her to say something. Finally, she heard her father's exasperated voice:

"Well, if you don't like it, I don't even know how to please you, Veronica. I slaved over the stove all evening and nary a gasp of amazement from my only daughter!"

"What?" - Veronica looked up from her plate. Her dad grinned, stuffing a spoonful of cheesy macaroni in his mouth. - "Sorry dad. It's amazing. You should be on one of those cooking shows."

"You mean that? I think I can pull it off, actually. If the whole Sheriff thing doesn't pan out, Ill give Rachel a call."

"Rachel?"

"Ray? You know, short, cute, brunette, loves olive oil"

"Dad!" - she laughed.

"What? I'm a man and men notice things like that. Hey, a strange thing happened today at the station. Someone left, now get this, a bag of flaming dog poop at the front entrance."

"Are you serious?!" - Keith nodded.

"Not only that, the phantom pooper left me an anonymous greeting card, wishing me the best time in Hell and suggesting that I should perform certain homosexual acts on myself."

"Wow, that's…." - Veronica chewed on her food. Something about this seemed familiar. Keith looked at her, smiling.

"Do you happen to know anything about this?"

Veronica wracked her brain. Could be a kid prank. It could have been just her intuition, but something was telling her that there is only one person that she knew, who was immature enough for something like this. Someone who was also oblivious enough to not realize that he got the wrong sheriff. Of course, It must have been Dick. No doubt, he was showing some bro-code solidarity with Logan. Veronica shrugged and shook her head. No reason to escalate it, after all, it could have been worse.

"The more you deny it, the more I think this has something to do with you. Did you piss someone off?"

"I have no idea, Dad. You know how it is, not a day goes by without a Mars making a mortal enemy of someone." - she offered him an innocent smile.

"Well, at least this particular enemy seems to be 8 years old. Nine at most."

_At least mentally,_ Veronica thought.

"Hey, you probably know already, but Don came by the station yesterday - he turned in his resignation from the force." - Keith said carefully, studying her face. Veronica avoided mentioning him in the house for the past couple of weeks. She had no idea Don did that.

"Oh. Did he say why?"

"He said he was leaving Neptune, going back home."

"Oh." - Veronica continued eating, trying not to let her dad see the turmoil inside. So that's it - he runs. Just like Darlene said he does when in trouble. Just as well. They have not spoken or even seen each other since she walked out of his apartment.

"Well, if you aren't going to tell me, I'm just going to ask - are you two OK? What happened?" - Keith's face grew serious.

"We broke up." - Veronica said, without offering any further information.

"I didn't realize you were officially dating."

"We weren't. Not really. I really prefer not to talk about it, Dad." - she looked up at him. Keith nodded, but clenched his teeth. He just knew Lamb was going to make a mess of things. He didn't tell Veronica that when he showed up at the station drunk.

"So I should congratulate you then? Are you the prime choice for the permanent sheriff position then?" - Veronica steered the conversation away from Don.

"Well, I'm not 100% sure I am going to run yet. Mars Investigation did so well last year, I'd hate to put it on hold."

"You are the sheriff Neptune needs and deserves, dad. I think you should do it."

"I'll think about it, sweetheart. So, you and Mac picked your school schedule yet?"

"Not yet, we still have a month and a half before the semester starts."

Keith studied his daughter's face, as they finished up the dinner. He could tell that she was brokenhearted, but she rarely confided in him about those things. All he knew was that he was relieved the Lamb was out of their lives, especially out of Veronica's.

After dinner, Veronica drove to the office, to finish up some paperwork. Even though it was late, she enjoyed the peace and quiet of the empty office. It gave her time to think, although usually she just ended up sulking. The hollow pain in her chest would not go away. It's been two weeks since she last saw Don, and now, learning that he is about to disappear from her life for good - she just wanted to curl up in a dark corner and cry for days.

She did see Logan a couple of days ago while heading to the beach with Mac - he tried to apologize. Veronica let him, but things between them remained cold and distant. Dick wasn't with him, but Veronica was pretty sure that the bag of dog shit at the station was his doing. _I guess it's better than Logan stalking Don and beating him to death. Or getting shot. _The sadness gnawed on her heart, competing with anger. She never thought of herself as something special, even though dad treated her like she was a princess. But the world outside of her father's protective arms thought differently of her. She thought she learned to be tough, even back when her former friends used to tease and torment her on the daily basis. Back when even Logan would make sure that she was as miserable as possible. Back when the only friend she could find was a skinny new kid, tied a pole out on the school yard. She thought she weathered it all and learned to be tougher.

And in a way she did, but there was always a part of her who simply wanted to be fought for.

When Leanne left, Veronica thought she could not recover from this blow, but eventually breathing became easier. Going through the day became more normal. But the anger stayed - she never felt good enough, like she was being worthy of someone trying to do anything they could to be with her. Once again, she lost to an addiction. Once again, she felt left behind, a bottle chosen over her.

Veronica wiped her tears and tried concentrating on filing. There was not much left - she finished up most of the ongoing cases, and barely took any new ones. She wouldn't have much time left to finish them up before the school starts, and Dad forbade her working on any cases while in college. Just as well - at this point Veronica wanted nothing more than to be overloaded with books and homework and lectures, and parties. To do things that normal college kids do. To meet people. Just not men. She needed a break from men. As smart as people told her she was, she also couldn't deny the pattern of misjudgments and impulsiveness, when it came to men. _Perhaps I'll meet a sweet quiet girl and fall in love, _Veronica thought with a smile.

* * *

Summer was almost over, and the cool breeze rolled in from the ocean. Just a week left before the classes started up again. It felt funny, as if a whole lifetime had passed in those three turbulent months.

Veronica closed the car door behind her and faced the fresh wind, rolling from the water. The beach was deserted for the most part, save for a couple walking their dog and a disheveled-looking man, digging through the trash cans. Veronica straightened her hair, looking around - Don't car was parked across the parking lot, but she couldn't tell whether he was inside.

Her hands were shaking. He called her last night, but she was too chicken to pick up. He left a message, asking to meet with him. He sounded sad and uncertain. At first, she thought of just never responding, but she missed him. Every day, every hour, that man for whatever strange and unexplainable reason still made her think of him all the time. A few days ago she talked to Darlene, who told her that moving back home was actually Don's idea. Darlene was thrilled, but Veronica was straight with her. She told the woman about his drinking problem, and that they broke up. The conversation lasted a long time. Darlene never made any excuses for her brother, but did her best to help Veronica navigate the emotional puzzle that was Don. Moving closer to his only remaining family was a good idea - both of the women thought so.

Darlene told Veronica that she should come visit them, come Holiday times. "_Despite what's going on between my boneheaded brother and you, you are always welcome in my house. You gonna just love my pumpkin pie. We usually cook some mean smoky ribs too - my Jack prides himself on them._" - she told her. Veronica said she will try to visit, but without Don's binding tie to them, it felt strange. But Darlene sounded like she meant it, that it wasn't just some empty offer.

The wind tousled Veronica's hair again, and she decided to just leave it alone and quit stalling. Her phone chimed - it was Don texting her: "at campsite near tower". She knew exactly where that was and headed there. Don was sitting on one of the log-benches, looking at the water. This reminded her of the distant night, when they first kissed. He turned to her and gave her a sad smile. His face looked sullen, with dark circles under his eyes. The baby-blues looked dim and tired. It didn't look like he shaved in days. There was a small cut on his bottom lip, as if someone punched him.

Veronica sat next to him. They sat in silence together. The sadness of it all was starting to overwhelm her, and she put all effort into not crying.

"So, when are you leaving?"

"In two days. Just need to ship the truck with my stuff, and I'm off." - his voice was hoarse.

"Are you driving?"

"No, flying. Sold my car."

"So you are staying with Darlene?"

"No, going back to Georgia. Its not too far though, I can drive to visit her and the kids." - He turned to her. Veronica could feel his gaze on her, but couldn't bring herself to face him. - "Hey, I didn't want to leave without...I just can't leave things like this between us. Thanks for coming."

"I don't want that either. I'm glad you are going, I think this place is wrong for you. It's wrong for many people." - She said. - "Not glad that you are leaving, just that you have somewhere else to go."

"Thanks. I'm not sure if I do, really, but I do have a house in Northern Georgia. Probably half-dilapidated by now, but hey, it'll give me something to do. But this is not what I wanted to tell you." - he touched her hand. Veronica looked up at him - his eyes looked clearer now. - "I hate this, whatever it is that makes me what I am. I gotta admit, in all my life I never found enough reason to change, so I gave in, got scared, pretended that I can beat this. I can't. I am broken, been for a long time."

"Me too. I don't know how to even deal with that, whatever I said - I don't think that was the right way to handle it." - Veronica said.

"No wait. You were right. The way I figured, I failed, I will fail again, and I will drag you down with me. Don't get me wrong, you carried me through all of this, the hospital, you and Darlene. I wouldn't have made it without the two of you. That's why I don't want to stay and wait until I destroy any hope of having you, you understand?" - He touched her chin gently. Her tears tore at his heart. - "I promised myself that I would never make you cry again. Sorry about that."

"I'll live, Deputy." - she gave him a sad smile. Part of her was still angry, but no longer at him. She just wanted her fairytale ending, for everything to be alright.

"More like unemployed and homeless." - he smiled back. His thumb traced her jaw and he sighed. - "I won't ask you to wait for me. All I can say is that I'm gonna try. I dunno how long, but I intend to try. Do you believe me?"

Veronica nodded.

"Thanks, Mars. Has anyone ever told you that you are capable of taking someone's broken heart and putting it back together?"

Tears spilled from Veronica's eyes, and a sob escaped her throat. She wrapped her hands around his neck, leaning on his chest. He held her. Finally, she said:

"Has anyone ever told you "_I believe in you_"?" - she asked him. Don's eyes welled with tears, as he shook his head. - "Well, I do. I know it won't be easy, but I know that you can do this. If you need me - just call me. I'm just a phone call away. Will you promise me that you won't disappear from my life?"

"Only if you promise me the same. I'm not asking you to become a nun for the rest of your days, but I'd rather have you as a long-distance friend, than not all."

He leaned and kissed her forehead. Veronica smiled - something inside of her lifted. She let go of something heavy that pressed down on her soul. This was both, complicated and simple. Whatever fortune (or misfortune) that brought them together, intended for them to remain bound. Be it love or friendship - at this moment, Veronica didn't care. The main thing was that Don was going to be alright. She was going to be alright.

"Well then, Deputy, I wish you safe travels. California is going to miss you." - she smiled, as they got up.

"I'll miss you, Mars."

They walked to the parking lot hand in hand. He watched her walk away and then leave. Then he nodded to himself - this is the right thing to do.


	16. Home

The country road winded and among the impossibly green and impossibly tall trees. It hugged the hills, clothed in lush shades of green, yellow and pink. Veronica drunk the sight in - the spring breeze and the unfamiliar scent of everything around her blooming at once made her high. She smiled - another country song, another man serenading his truck with a sultry drawl. Although not a fan of country music, she left the station on all the way from the airport - this was Lamb country now.

She grinned, watching the cows stroll in the pastures - the farms were numerous along this part of the highway. She saw horses, cows and even a couple of alpaca farms. She stopped at the second alpaca farm, and met the owner, who proceeded to tell her all about his "sweeties". She never been so close to an alpaca before - they were fascinating. Almost as fascinating as the people she had met so far. Everyone of them seemed to be busy, but at the same time having enough time to stop and chat with her casually.

The phone buzzed in her back pocket - Veronica dug for it and finally answered it. It was Keith:

"Sweetheart, just making sure you weren't abducted by some "country fellers" and forced to become a farmer's wife."

"I'm good dad, still on the road. No marriage offers yet. Not even a single kidnapping attempt. I did meet an alpaca farmer."

"I like the sound of it. Alpacas are a great investment from what I hear." - she could tell her father was smiling.

"He was ancient, dad. Doubt he can keep up with me"

"No one can, sweetheart. So you going to let me know when you meet with the FBI reps?"

"I will dad, but it's not until two days from now, I told you, I'm going to see Don first."

"Right, right...I was hoping time moved faster than that."

"We talked about it." - Veronica sighed. Even after all these months, Keith was still not too keen on the idea of her keeping in touch with Don.

"I am just doing my job. I believe it's in the brochure, that the hospitals hand to you, as soon as your daughter is born. Number 5 - keep any and all potential suitors at a distance equal to a shotgun's barrel"

"You want me to die a spinster!" - Veronica laughed.

"I admit, I wouldn't mind it, but I am also looking forward to grand kids."

"Now, who's rushing things. Don't worry, dad, I'll call you often. I promise not to do anything crazy, deal?"

"Deal. Love you. Miss you. Tell Don I know where he lives." - she heard the sound of a kiss in the phone and kissed the air in return.

After Don had left Neptune, Keith had no problem with winning the election. Mayor's original choice - Angel Batista, a former Miami Lieutenant of Homicide did not want to run against him, actually. Keith and him became good friends, and Keith hired him on the force without any hesitation - the man had the experienced and a box of recommendation letters.

The GPS suddenly announced a coming up turn, and Veronica stiffened - so far Georgian roads seemed to be a logical contradiction to the GPS mapping. She got lost twice, and the robotic lady patiently "recalculated route" a few times, finally leading her back unto the main road. She made a turn, finding more winding roads ahead. This drive was a pleasure. Growing up in the near-desert area, she was not used to see so much green - the verdant sea of trees went on forever, blanketing the hills. Although the air was muggier than she was used to, it was also full of life, which seemed to be pouring from every bush, tree and flower.

Veronica touched her hand to her chest, feeling the necklace underneath and smiled. It was like a compass to her destination. Just before her birthday, about three months ago she received a package from Don.

While they stayed in touch, calling each other often, he hadn't sent her anything before. She opened it - a small round metal circle, attached to a simple silver chain slid out of the bag. She curiously turned it in her hands - it was far too large and tacky to be a piece of jewelry. Then she saw a large number 9 on one side, framed by a triangle. It said "9 months recovery." The outside of the triangle was framed by smaller writing "To thine own self be true". An Alcoholics Anonymous chip. Darlene did mention that Don started the program a while ago, but Veronica didn't question him about. She was afraid to "jinx him". He mentioned a few times that he was trying to be clean, and she tried to be supportive as much as she could.

The crude necklace came with a handwritten letter from Don. Veronica put the necklace on, and opened the letter:

"Mars,

I wanted to get you something cute for your Birthday, but then I thought that this will mean more. It's been rough without you, but I think I'm gonna make it. I hope you are not disappointed. Miss you terribly.

Love, don."

Veronica blinked tears away. Disappointed? Out of all of the gifts, this was one of the most precious things she ever received. So he did follow through after all. He loved her enough to make this effort, and he loved himself enough to change his life. She wore that necklace every day since then. When applying for the FBI internship - she applied for the Atlanta office. Although it was quite a drive to where Don lived, they would be only a couple of hours apart.

The GPS lady announced that another turn awaited her. She was nearly there, according to the map. Another few miles, perhaps?

The house was nestled among the trees - it was small, but adorable. A traditional Southern - style wooden porch adorned the front, complete with a wooden swing. She pulled her car into the driveway - this should be a surprise to Don. She didn't tell him she was coming, although he did know about her internship. Don was nowhere to be found. She came up to the front door and knocked - there was no door bell. No answer. _Strange, maybe he is off on the job? _He started his own business a couple of months ago - lawn care. Peeking in the garage - a pickup truck was parked inside. He must be home after all. Then she heard the winding of the motor from the back of a house, that sputtered a few times and died off. A string of unprintable expressions followed, accompanied by a low bark. Veronica grinned, and made her way around the back.

Don was sitting on the tractor mower, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans. A red baseball cap covered his head. She could see right away that he gotten leaner and tan - so tan. She carefully lifted the latch on the chain link fence and stepped into the yard. As soon as she made a few steps - the most ancient-looking dog started waddling towards her slow, wagging her tail. The dog made a few low "woofs".

"Buzzard, shut yer trap, let me concentrate!" - Don exclaimed, climbing off the mower. He listed the front panel and dug inside the motor. More cursing followed. Veronica held her finger up to the lips, hoping the dog would keep it down, but Buzzard would have none of it. He sniffed her sneakers contentedly and placed his head under her palm. Veronica obeyed and pet him. The dog gave a few quite barks in approval. - "What, Buzzard, it's just the neighbors!"

Don spun around - a large black smudge decorated his cheek. His eyes focused on the young woman's figure, standing among the dandelions. He blinked a few times and shook his head, as if trying to shoo the apparition away.

"Howdy, neighbor." - she said, smiling. "Or should I say: Deputy? Got a glass of come sweet ice tea for a stranger?"

He tore the work gloves from his hands, threw them on the ground, and started towards her. He was walking well - only a slight limp would ever hint at his injury last year. He stopped short in front of her, simply starting, drinking in the sight of her. Veronica smiled, her heart trying to jump out and go skipping down his lawn.

"I hope it's al right that I came uninvited. Wanted to surprise you." - she said sheepishly. Don inhaled sharply and wrapped his arms around the young woman. Veronica inhaled his scent, mixed with grass and motor oil - it smelled like heaven to her. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Finally, Don pulled away, but without letting go of her waist, said:

"You should have told me, I would have at least cleaned up."

"I don't mind. I think you look good, all dirty and frustrated." - she grinned. The past few months disappeared. The past hurts and painful memories seemed to melt under his smile and the glint of his eyes. She liked the way he looked at her. She loved being held like this. She _needed _to feel this needed.

"How long do I get to have you with me?" - he whispered, tracing her face with a dirty finger. Veronica didn't mind.

"As long as you can bear it?"

"Well, then, I don't think you are leaving here anytime soon." - he said, lowering his face to hers. - "I intend to bear your presence forever."

She was the one who leaned into him and kissed him. Her hungry lips bathed his - it's been so long. Parting now seemed like impossibility. Dammit it all, she wanted it all now - everything. The white-picket fence, the old mangy dog, the broken lawnmower, the sun beating down on their shoulders. Don pulled her close, possessively.

Buzzard the dog woofed in approval, as his human picked up the sweet-smelling female and carried her inside the house. The dog sniffed the air and sprawled on the shady spot near the house - this was going to be a good year.


End file.
